Amethyst Night Sky
by Alexokerry
Summary: The Company has its hunters out looking for a child that could mean the difference between life and death for most of the human race. Yohji and his small team of resistance fighters are trying to protect the kid when they are attacked be a certain redhead. Their attacker is joined by the Company's best hunters. Will Yohji be able to protect the little one? AU
1. Chapter 1

**This story is way off canon and I hope that y'all enjoy it. Things maybe a bit slow in the first few chapters, but I promise they will heat up.**

**I don't own the Weiss boys or Schwartz! If I did, there'd be a lot hotter boy on hot boy action!**

**Things seen and unseen**

Aya stood on the ledge just outside the building where his targets were hiding. A tremor of anticipation shuddered through him. Soon the ones that killed the innocent would be punished and then he could do….do what? The only memories he had were from the last two weeks and the man who had helped him through this trying time. He owed Mr. Rezac more than his life, he owed him his sanity. And in order to repay the kindness that shone him, Aya was willing to take on the four men and one woman who had stolen a very important article from him.

The sound of laughter and the squeaky voice of a young child wafted through the window, verifying the information that Aya had been given. With a blood-curdling scream of _'shi-ne'_, he burst through the window, katana drawn and slashed at the nearest figure. One of the males fell back, bleeding from the stump of his right hand. He turned to the child and grabbed for him. A tall, slender figure with oaken hair and golden skin insinuated itself between him and the boy.

"Bind!" a female voice said. Aya fell over as his arms and legs were tied up in an invisible rope. He remembered the teachings of his new friends, to remain calm and to imagine the bonds bursting like old rope.

The invisible ties broke and Aya tried to flip over to finish the task put in front of him. His breath came in short, hissing gasps as the weight of the remaining two males pinned him to the ground, despite his wriggling and squirming.

"Damn! Shit! Fuck, Dude! What the hell did you do that for?" one of the men said. "Marcus is gonna die, Dude. You cut off his fucking hand."

"He won't die if you get the proper medical treatment and leave me to return the child to his rightful owner," Aya said, glaring over his shoulder at the figures on his back.

"You're not taking him anywhere," the oaken-haired person said, tossing his (yes, his) long hair over his shoulders and matching Aya's glare. "He's gonna stay here with his mother and you're leaving now, one way or another."

"Murderers!" Aya snarled. "Killers, assassins, butchers, slaughterers! Prepare to meet your fates!"

"Murderers?" said the oaken-haired man, who seemed to be the leader. "Who the hell are we supposed to have killed? Hm?"

"My family for one and there are dozens of people that you've killed in order to steal the Gifted children from them. Whole families are dead because of people like you."

"Listen here, butt-fuck," the _Dude_ guy said, from his back. "We haven't done anything except save people from the Company and from idiots like you."

"Barret, that's enough," oaken-hair said.

"But, Yohji…"

"No, buts. Just look through his mind and see if there are any coercions on him. What'd you wanna bet that Rezac's got his dirty little hands in this mess?"

Aya felt the barriers in his mind that he had painstakingly built from the ground up, crumble like ancient mortar. A foreign presence filled the vault of his mind and he pushed with all his might to force it out.

"Nah-huh-uh!" Barret said, smacking his face hard. "I don't think so, buddy. You're gonna give up all your secrets and we're gonna find out who you working for. Yohji, Micah you guys wanna help me? He's puttin' up one hell of a fight. "

"Don't tell me, Barret, that he's too much of a handful for you," Micah drawled from his position on Aya's lower back.

"You try to control him, ya bastard and see if you can do better than me." Barret smashed Aya's face into the floor, knocking him senseless for a brief moment. He gave a shout of triumph as the walls that had been built in Aya's mind collapsed like a skyscraper in an earthquake.

A flood of memories overwhelmed Aya's mind and he slipped away from reality into a safe place deep in his mind. A small line of drool leaked out of the corner of his mouth and his eyes stared blankly at nothing.

"What the hellcha do, Barret?"

"I got no clue. I think I broke him." He looked up at Yohji, waiting for the next order.

"Hey, Momma," Yohji said, looking at the woman. "You got time to look him over?"

"I suppose, since I'm the closest thing we have to a Mind-Healer here, I'd better." She moved toward the unconscious figure. "Although, why I should care about what happens to him, I haven't a clue."

"Because, like every woman ever born, you're a sweet, caring person who'll do anything for anyone."

She gave the tall blonde a very unladylike snort. "As if. I agree with Barret, if I had my way we'd just kill him and let God decide if he deserves it."

"That's what makes us so different from Rezac, we realize that everyone has their use even if they aren't Gifted like us," Yohji said, looking up from where he was tending to Marcus' injured hand. The brown-haired man's wound wasn't starting to clot and the tall blonde was beginning to get more than a little bit nervous. If the blood flow didn't slow down they'd lose another partner to Rezac's greed.

Marcus gave a small sigh, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he slumped to the floor. Yohji looked at the collapsed form and swore under his breath. Rezac had just given him another reason to hate him. Too many of the blonde's friends had died, sacrificed to the man's unrelenting greed. He walked out of the room and grabbed a sheet from the bed.

Barret howled in grief and smashed Aya's face into the floor again. He reached out and grasped ahold of the cherry-haired man's mind, preparing to destroy it. If he couldn't exact his revenge on the man who pulled the strings from the shadows, then he'd destroy the instrument the man sent.

"Barret, no!" Yohji snapped, using his power to push the smaller man off their prisoner.

"But Marcus, man! What about Marcus?!"

"We will find out what we can from this one and maybe, just maybe we can turn the weapon back on its maker."

"Waddaya mean?" the smaller man demanded, tears running down his face.

"Exactly what I said; if we can figure out how he's controlling this one, maybe able to send him back against his master." Yohji stepped over to the fallen redhead. "Tell me what you found in there," he said, letting his voice take on the tone that he used in debriefings. He hoped that it would shock the younger man out of his grief enough to realize that any weapon could be used against the enemy.

"He had some really shitty shields, built on nothing. There's a lot of power swirling around in there but it's totally unfocused and chaotic. He's not been grounded or centered, but he was almost strong enough to throw me out. And you were right, there were coercions."

"What kind?"

"Well, they gave him partial amnesia, just enough for that bastard to twist this one to his side. The feeling that I got from the kinks in his head, is that this one is expendable; part of that maybe from the guy's own sense of honor."

"Honor?" Yohji asked, his attention perked by that one word.

Yeah, honor. This guy seems to think that he's a fuckin' Samurai or somethin'."

"Maybe he is." Yohji looked at the fallen figure. The redhead seemed so fragile and delicate, but yet so insane. What in the hell made that pale figure think he could take on five trained adults? Something wasn't right; it wasn't like Rezac to leave things to chance. There had to be a back-up plan and the unknown was causing the hair on the back of the blonde's neck to rise.

The wind rushed in the broken window, blowing dust and debris into the eyes of the group. When they could see once again, four figures stood framed in the shattered casement. The light reflected off a pair of glasses as the leader of the new group stepped into the room. The man wearing the glasses was tall, not quite as tall as Yohji, but not a short man either. Standing to his right was a tall thin orange-haired man with a sadistic smile on his face and to his left was a white-haired man in an untied straightjacket. Between glasses and whitey was a boy of maybe fifteen, dressed in a schoolboy uniform. The small figure's hair moved restlessly in a wind that seemed confined to his body.

Micah stepped between the child and the four intruders. He threw his strongest shield over both of them and drew the frightened child into his arms. Most of his Gifts weren't tough enough to stand up to a fight, however he did have one very powerful one; the ability to build nearly impregnable shields.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" Yohji asked, carefully probing the newcomers for the extent of their powers.

"We've come for the child," Glasses said, pushing his spectacles further up his nose.

"Don't think so, Butt-fuck," Barret snarled, launching to his feet. "You assholes killed Marcus and Remy and Daniel and…"

"Oh, lovely," Orange-hair drawled in heavily accented English. "We get the complete and total litany of why we're the bad guys."

"Yeah, that's right, you get to hear the names of everyone that's been takin' away from us. We didn't do nothing to deserve the punishment you guys been dishin' out. And I'm just pissed off enough to rip your balls off and shove 'em up your ass!"

'_Crawford let me handle these people,' _Schuldig sent down the channel connecting the four of them. _'This guy seems like he'll be fun to play with. I love the taste of ruined minds and ambitions.'_

'_Be careful, I'm having a hard time getting my Sight to work here; these five…ah, four maybe more than we can handle.'_

'_As if'_ came the conceited reply. _'If we can't handle these weaklings, then I'll eat one of Farfie's knives.' _

"Oh really?" Yohji said, canting his head to one side. "So, we're weaklings and you're too loud. I suggest that you leave before we're forced to do something that you might regret."

"_Ja, __Kätzchen_ you just do that," the orange-haired man responded. "Prodigy, _Schatzie_, keep them busy while I take care of the _Trottel_ over there."

Yes, Mastermind," Nagi said, drawing his power to him. The wind that always seemed to follow him swirled around the room, ruffling hair, clothing and papers. Then the breeze died and the air became still.

"What the fuck!?" Schuldig snarled, grabbing for the child.

"Get the brat and let's get out of here," Crawford snapped turning his attention to the Talent in the room. "Berserker, attack!"

The white-haired man attacked, going after the one woman in the room, knowing that the others would break off their fights to protect her.

Aya came to himself, the gentle presence in his mind acting as a stabilizing point. He softly pushed her out of his head, grabbed for his katana and slashed out at the man heading for the woman. He now knew that entire story he'd been lead to believe was lies and that Rezac had seduced him into thinking these people were his enemies. The only way to make up for the dishonor he'd brought on himself was to defend the weak and defenseless.

He jumped to his feet and slashed the man again. His sword made contact with his attacker, slicing off a small strip of skin. It wasn't the effect that he wanted, but it was a start. He lashed out with one foot, catching Mastermind on the side of one knee. The tall German crumpled as his leg folded under him and he howled in pain. The white-haired man looked confused, his attention divided between the cherry-haired man and his original target.

The shields around Micah and the child reverberated as the little telekinetic tried to force them down. As the kid concentrated on bringing down the protections that prevented the team from scooping the mark up, Barrett joined Aya in attacking two of his teammates. The battle that had started around Schuldig and Farfarello swallowed him up, slamming him into the brick wall. His vision filled with stars and comets and then faded to black.

"Mastermind," Crawford snapped, "get Prodigy and let's go! We're not going to be able to complete the mission at this time. Fall back! You too, Berserker!"

The team grabbed up their fallen comrade and threw themselves out of the third story window. The tall, gangly orange-haired man looked up at Yohji and his team and shook his fist at them.

'_Next time, Kätzchen things will be different,'_ he sent in broadsend.

"Yeah and we'll be waiting," Barret ground out.

Yohji turned his attention to the man who had started this whole mess. "What in the hell are we going to do with you?"

Aya looked at the beautiful, bronze godling standing before him and turned the katana on himself. Granted seppuku was supposed to be committed with the wakizashi, but as he didn't have his, he'd use what was available.

"Stop him," Yohji screamed, trying to reach the smaller man before he did something really stupid.

**Hope you enjoyed it! The more reviews I get, the faster the chapters will appear (hint, hint)**

13


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's new chapter And I hope that you like it! Please remember that things aren't following canon and it may seem strange. Oh, and all flames will be used to heat my house this winter.**

**Don't own, so don't sue. Believe me, if I owned the Weiss boys (all of them) you'd need to be 21 to watch it!**

**To Dance in the Fire**

"Stop him!" Yohji yelled, trying to reach the smaller man before he could eviscerate himself. Berret stepped up and delivered a sharp blow to Aya's neck. He fell over, out cold.

"Next time," Yohji said, glaring at his teammate, "use a bat or something. Your bare hands nearly killed him."

"Yeah, whatever," Berret responded, flipping the tall blonde the finger. "Whatcha wanna do with this guy?" He nudged the unconscious form on the floor.

"We'll take him with. If what you said is correct about the coercions, then he's as much of a victim as Marcus was." Yohji turned and faced the archway that separated the living area from the dining room in the small flat. He closed his eyes and began to spin out his personal energy into a Gate. He formed the warp then the waft, the orifice glowed bright, faded to black and then flashed brightly again. The room that came up wasn't the same room as in the flat.

"Go through," Yohji gasped through clenched teeth. "Don't know how long I can hold it."

Micah scooped up the child and dove through the glowing opening, followed by Vanessa. Berret threw Aya over his shoulder and went through. He handed the comatose redhead to one of the guards and turned to make sure the team leader made it across. Yohji stumbled past the threshold, Marcus' body slung over his shoulder. He sank to his knees and unraveled his weaving. As the power flowed back into him and he stood shakily up.

"Balinese, Cymric and Ocicat," a quiet voice said from behind them. "I'll meet you in the debriefing room. Take that one to the sickbay and have him seen by one of the Healers."

Two guards carefully carried the fallen form out of the room. The small, innocent-looking blonde that had greeted them turned on his heel and headed in the direction of the indicated room without waiting for a response.

Omi AKA Persia sat behind his desk, glaring at the ever multiplying stack of papers. Running the resistance group wasn't something he really wanted to do, but if he didn't who would? He had taken control of the group from his dying uncle and now he was stuck. Pendleton Rezac was a slimy, oily dirt bag, who would destroy what he couldn't control.

"Glaring at them won't make them disappear," Ken said from the other side of the pile.

The petite blonde smiled softly at the sweet gentle man. Ken's Gifts weren't as strong of as some of the others, but what he could do he did to the very best of his ability. His telepathy was so weak that he had to be touching someone for them to hear him; unless the other person happened to be a potent mindspeaker. His one powerful Gift had made him useful to the Company; he possessed the natural talent to see others' Gifts. Not only to see but also to measure how strong the Gift was. As a member of that organization, he'd been a Banded Hunter. The bands worked to take away the wearer's free will, leaving them as emasculated passengers in their own bodies.

Yohji had freed him and brought him to the relative safety of the Resistance. Never would he leave this sanctuary, unless the whole unit was pried out of their secure berth.

Omi on the other hand, had what was known as a Rogue Gift. He could absorb all the information from the minds of the Gifted, store it away and then give it to someone else that had the same abilities. He also had the capability to slither into any common electronic devise, not as well as his crack hackers, but enough.

He stretched until every one of his vertebrae cracked and popped back into their normal positions. "I know," he answered, "but I keep hoping. I wish, just once that I could use some of the Gifts stored in my head. Right now, a Fire Mage would be nice."

"Knowing you, you'd overdo it and….." A soft knock broke up Ken's last thought.

"Enter," Omi called, shuffling the pile he was working on off to one side.

The door opened and two very different figures stepped in. The first was a slight, ephemeral creature with a long silver braid that fell almost to his ankles. Large, silver-green, almond-shaped eyes stared blankly out of a delicate, heart-shaped face. One frail hand was grasped in the massive paw of the second man. This one stood seven feet, nine inches and weighed in at over three hundred pounds, none of it fat. The Goliath had salt and pepper hair, mustache and goatee and fathomless brown eyes. He had to duck to pass through the threshold.

"Sybel, Kavin what brings you two?" Omi said, rising to his feet.

"His lordship said it was important," the large man growled, leading his charge over to a chair.

"Kavin be nice," Sybel answered, a sweet smile lighting his features.

"I am, can'tcha tell?"

Sybel's face became serious. "What I've seen has come to pass. You must be ready for a heart-sore team. And there's going to be a new kitten to name." He settled deeper into the chair. "The time has come to lighten your load in a small way."

"Understood," Omi said. "Do you know which one?"

"I've seen a great dragon rising out of the East."

"Oh, great," Ken grumbled, "more riddles."

"I'm sorry, Ken but the future often is an enigma," Sybel sighed as his eyes fluttered shut. "I don't See just one future, I See multiple ones and often times each scenario is a polar opposite of the one before and I have to…" His voice drifted off and his breathing became deep and even.

"He's not been sleeping well," Kavin barked, carefully gathering his charge up.

"What can we do to help?" Omi asked, rising to his feet and coming around the desk.

"Find a way to stop the visions from coming."

"We've got …"

"Na," Kavin said, pulling the frail form closer. "He'd kill me if I let you give him something to block his Sight. It's just that the revelations are coming faster and becoming more realistic. It's getting harder for him to tell dream from reality."

"If you say so," Omi responded, moving toward the door. "If things get too difficult, let me know and we'll see about shutting his Gift down for a while."

"Yeah, thanks." Kavin ducked through the door and looked back at the two behind him. "He says that events are coming to a head and by the light of the thirteenth moon, things will be decided."

"Thank you," Omi said softly. The tall man grinned and headed down the hall with his burden. The petite blonde closed the door and headed back to his desk. "Ken get the debriefing room ready and have the proper energy rations taken there. It sounds like Yohji's team ran into problems." He began digging through the piles of papers. He gave a little crow of victory and held up a thin manila envelope. "This might ease the pain."

"Yo, Persia," came the voice of one of his hackers through the intercom system.

"Yes, Tony?"

"There's a Gate coming up in the restricted area."

"Thank you," Omi answered as he headed out the door.

Ken followed closely behind. The dark-haired man ran a quick check on all his weapons, making sure he'd be able to protect his leader if the situation called for it. He knew that he owed Yohji a lot, but the tall, leggy blonde really intimidated him. The slight figure in front of him, on the other hand, left the athletic brunette with butterflies of attraction – well maybe not butterflies, more like a Luna moth or two. He would do anything for this slight man.

They passed through the building, walking by the private rooms of the ones that choose to stay here, around the sparsely filled cafeteria and to a wing that was Shielded to a fare-thee-well. They crossed through the Shielding, power tingling over their skin, into a room that reverberated with not only power, but Blessed and Holy energy. As they stepped into the room, Micah crossed the portal with the child in his arms. The little one was throwing a fit while the man tried to calm him. Vanessa and Berret followed hot on his heels. And then Yohji stumbled through, the sheet wrapped, lifeless body of Marcus slung over one shoulder.

"Balinese, Cymric and Ocicat," Omi said from behind the team. "I'll meet you in the debriefing room. Take that one to the sickbay and have him seen by one of the Healers; leave Marcus' body there, we'll deal with it later" Omi headed for the door. "You two take that one to the Healers." The guards picked up Aya's unconscious form and carefully headed out into the hallway connect this room to the rest of the building.

Omi lead the way to the debriefing room. The long faces of his retrieval team weighed heavily on him, but he had some information that might turn those frowns into glares of anger. His pet hackers had gotten into Rezac's system and stolen the files that carried any information on his teams. They reached the chosen room and walked past the threshold, a frisson of power skittered over their skin.

Without preamble, Omi announced "I've got some bad news for you all."

"And that would be?" Yohji asked, looking his leader straight in the eyes.

"Ian and Tony were able to hack into the computers at the Company headquarters and found out something even I didn't suspect."

"Yeah and that would be?" Barret spat at him.

"Marcus was working for Rezac and his goons."

"That ain't possible! There's no way in hell that Marc would be working for that damned bastard! "

"Would you like to hear what he reported to his supervisor about you, Ocicat? It wasn't very flattering."

"I'd rather not," Vanessa remarked, dryly. "How much information did he get?"

"Not enough to hurt us." The petite blonde gave a cat-in-the-cream smile. "He gave them everything that we wanted him to. Part of war is misdirection and only an arrogant man thinks that his safety precautions can't be breached. Anything that can be cast can be destroyed if the opposing Mage is strong enough." He shuffled through the pile of papers he held in his hands. "Yohji is a nymphomaniac that will bed anyone or anything in order to slake his unnatural lusts. Vanessa is a smart woman who tends to think with her heart instead of her brains. And you, Barret, are a, and I quote, 'Neanderthal who has the finesse of a bull in a glass factory'. You also have the mind of a cabbage. Micah is weak and the one fragile link in your team. Marcus said that if they could get a hold of him, he'd be easy to turn although with his power level it would be a waste of time and effort." He handed the sheaf of papers to Yohji, then stepped back to allow them to read what was written about them.

Yohji looked over the information and stored it away for a later date. He could feel the anger rolling off Barret like heat off the summer blacktop. The shorter man looked absolutely apoplectic and the oaken-haired man knew that the next time they met a team from the Company there would be hell to pay. He'd have a hard time controlling Barret. He looked over at Omi and canted his head to one side. "I did notice something; the other team isn't as well trained as we are. Why is that?"

"I've told you that we've found a way of training our people that is a true method. If I remember correctly, it's based on training given to the Druids. Until the last two generations, it's been all oral history that has passed on the information that is required to use our Gifts. But there's been an upswing in the numbers of Gifted children born. Sybel is a little worried about what's on the horizon."

"Something big's coming, isn't it?" Barret said, pulling himself out of the downward spiral of his anger.

"Let me put it to you this way," Omi responded, sitting heavily in one of the comfortable chairs that surrounded the desk. "In all my memories I can only find one place where the number of Gifted was this high and that was before the destruction of the Holy Isle by the Romans in the first century CE."

"Then something really gigantic is setting up to come crashing down on us," Yohji sighed and pulled his shoulder blade-length hair out of its mission tail and shook his head to let the golden tresses free. "Alright, we deal with one problem at time. We can't change something that hasn't happened, but we can try to prevent whatever is coming."

"Hey, boss man, what the hell is the kid for?"

"He has his part to play in this farce, but not for a while yet."

"So why the fuck did we need to go chasing him now?' Barret grumbled, glaring at the boss.

"Because it would be easier to take him from the streets instead of trying to get into the Company's secret hideaway; and that I learned from playing capture the flag as a child. Besides which, his Gift is going to open very early and he's going to need all the training we can give him before that happens. Rezac wouldn't bother with it and the poor little thing would be left to his own devises."

"Alright, then why did we have to bring the redhead with us?" Yohji asked, coming to his feet.

"Ah, yes," Omi said, getting back to his feet. "Let's go see your suicidal kitten, shall we?" He headed out the door and turned toward the infirmary. Ken joined him in the hall and he could hear Yohji telling the remaining members of his team to go and get some sleep. They'd hash things over in the morning. Then his light footsteps joined the other two. Omi envied the tall, lanky man's ability to walk softly.

Yohji's Mage talents were second to none around the sanctuary; he was dashing, suave and knew the right time to say the right thing. With his chosen weapon, no one could beat him. The only thing that kept him out of the upper echelon of the organization was his laziness and total fear of being responsible for more than a single retrieval team. Maybe he'd have a chance to grow up a little more if he met the right girl…..

Aya woke up in a strange room with his head throbbing to the beat of his heart. He sat up and grabbed the sheets as the room began to spin. Almost noiseless footsteps were his only warning before a harried-looking young man came through the door. He watched the other man carefully, trying to gauge if he would be a problem or if he would just melt away at any sign of resistance.

"Ah, I see you're awake," the newcomer said, giving Aya a reassuring smile. The redhead tried to figure the other man out. Jet black hair fell in smooth strands down his back; his face seemed to be chiseled from granite and his copper skin glowed with health. Black, almond-shaped eyes glittered with amusement. "See something you like?"

"Um, I'm sorry," Aya stammered.

"Don't worry about it." He gave confused young man a smile. He held his hands over the lithe body, checking for any injuries he might have missed when he first came in. "Oh, forgive, I'm known as Wolf here. Do you remember your name?"

"Aya," he murmured. "Just call me Aya."

"Alright, Aya. Are you hungry?"

"Not really. I just want to know why the hell I'm here. Am I a POW?"

"I'll leave that to the high, muckity-mucks to explain." He placed one hand on Aya's forehead and the other over his heart. Wolf's hands glowed bright green and Aya could feel warmth and strength flowing though his body. After a few moments or an eternity, the feelings subsided and the dark-haired man sighed.

"Alright, Persia and the team leader should be here in a few moments and then you'll have your answers."

"Thank you," Aya said, playing with the top sheet to hide his nervousness. The other man stepped out of the room, but he left the door open in case the smaller man needed something. He could hear voices drifting in to the area from a hallway.

The voices came closer and three figures stepped into the room. One a petite blonde with huge blue eyes; he looked like he was about twelve years old; the second one, a dark-haired male with grey eyes and an athletic build. And then the third one, that one had distracted Aya during his battle: the tall, graceful oaken-haired man, Yohji (if Aya remembered correctly).

When Omi came through the door, one of the personalities with Gifts that resided in his head woke with a resounding _'YES'_. The great eastern dragon came awake, roaring to be set free. The power behind that one drove Omi to his knees.

The time was now to bring the dragon back to life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's a new chapter, hope you like it!**

**As always, don't own – don't sue! Believe me, if I owned them they would have a XXX rating.**

**One Tin Solider**

Crawford held his body at attention, not full military attention mind you, but still straight, tall and respectful. He kept his head tilted so that the lights glared off his glasses and hid his eyes from the man currently castigating him and his team.

Schuldig, on the other hand, leaned casually against the ornate, mahogany monstrosity Rezac called a desk. He had one eyebrow raised and a knowing smirk on his face. Nagi and Farfarello followed Crawford's example and were at least pretending to pay attention.

"….. I send you out to do one thing . . . one thing Crawford, and your team fails miserably. You're worthless, the lot of you!" Rezac snarled, pacing like a caged, rabid dog.

The image of a poodle pacing back and forth and foaming at the mouth came down the link between the four. _:Der kleine General ,:_ the orange-haired German drawled. The likeness changed to the same rabid poodle dressed in a nineteenth-century French general's uniform.

The little General was right; Pendleton Rezac was a man of great power, but very short stature. He wore lifts hidden in his shoes to raise his height, but that didn't fool anyone. He stood five foot two tops, had stringy, thin black hair with an ever enlarging bald spot, a face that looked like ill-kneaded dough with a couple of raisins stuffed where his eyes were. His suits were always wrinkled and he smelled like he didn't have a passing acquaintance with soap and water.

"And Ailill says that you're failing on purpose. Can you explain yourselves?"

"Well, the team you sent us after was much better trained than we are. Schuldig said he couldn't hear anything coming off the four that survived the encounter," Crawford said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "Oh and the operative that you had in that group was taken out by that deranged redhead you sent us to babysit."

"Excuses, Crawford? That isn't like you."

"Not an excuse, just telling you what we observed. They kept saying that we were very loud and using a sledgehammer to shatter a teacup. I don't think your friend is telling us everything or training us to the best of his ability."

"Bullshit, Bradley! You failed and you're trying to blame someone for your incompetence."

The door to Rezac's office creaked open and a tall, cloak wrapped figure glided into the room. Crawford's body trembled as the temperature in the office seemed to drop by about twenty degrees. It might just be a psychological reaction, but there was something about the newcomer that made his blood run cold. All four of members of Schwarz felt the same, but Farfarello's reaction was the most violent. He actually tried to hide behind Nagi, whimpering and shivering like a beaten puppy. That response put the tall brunette on guard and he pulled his defenses tighter around him. They may not be as good as the team that they fought, but better than nothing.

"Close the blinds, won't you Pendleton, m'boy," Ailill said, a heavy Irish lilt distorting his speech. "I can't handle the light."

_:Ja and that's why he looks like a fish's belly.: _Schuldig sent down their line.

"How amusing," the cloaked figure drawled. "I'm sure that we could use a new court jester." One bone-white hand came out into the light, the talon-like fingers crooked and the tall German began to dance like a corpse on a string. "Shall we see how long it takes you to dance yourself to death?"

"Nein!" Schuldig choked out. Sweat formed on his brow as he tried to fight the compulsions on him. Farfarello slithered up to the hidden man and brought the flat of his blade against the exposed arm. The skin under the knife bubbled and blistered and a thin stream of thick, black smoke rose off the appendage. The man's free arm lashed out at the white-haired man, who wasn't there. Nagi took his courage from Berserker and drew up his power to push the creature back.

"Nagi, Farfarello stand down," Crawford barked. "Would you please call off your dog?"

"Don't insult me. If there is a dog here, _he's_ the dog," Ailill hissed, moving close enough to Crawford that the bespectacled man could smell the death and decay clinging to the cloaked figure. Ailill stopped when his lips touched Crawford's ear. "Your orange-haired associate had it right; Rezac is my little poodle and if you're not careful I'll sic him on you," he whispered. An involuntary shudder passed through Brad's body as those cold, velvety lips caressed his ear.

Crawford's sight began greying at the edges and he drew himself to his full height. This moment wasn't a good time for a vision to overwhelm him. He stiffly bowed to Rezac and his strange compatriot and headed for the door.

"Crawford!" Rezac snapped. "Crawford I haven't dismissed you yet! Get your scrawny lily-white ass back here!"

"Let them go, we have things to discuss."

Crawford staggered against the wall when the team walked into the relative safety of the hallway; the impending prophecy blurring his sight. Nagi slipped under his arm and made a show of hugging the disabled man. The taller man pushed his Gift as far as it would go back into its little box. If he could keep it under control until they reached the shelter of their private room then he could allow the future to engulf him.

Schuldig slipped under the other arm and motioned for Nagi to run ahead and open the door.

"The Infinity Room," Crawford choked out.

"You hear the man, Nagsters," Schuldig drawled. "Get the room ready."

"Yes Schuldig," the petite brunette responded as he slipped into the room.

By the time Crawford and Schuldig stepped over the threshold, the passage to the hidden room was open and beckoning. Crawford pulled away from the strong support of his second and staggered into the one place he felt secure enough to relax and allow his Sight to take over his whole being. Sighing he collapsed onto a futon that had been brought in there for just such emergencies. The grey swarmed over his vision and then everything went totally black. For just one moment, Crawford thought that he had died; then he wished he had.

_He stood in a foreign landscape or what looked like an alien world. Little by little he began to recognize landmarks. It was Tokyo, but not the thriving metropolis that he had just left. No, this was a land of corpses; with no sound except the wind moaning its loneliness to ears that could no longer hear. Over that mournful song came the ruckus of crows and ravens fighting over a feast. Further away he could hear stray dogs and feral cats contesting over the choicest bits of flesh._

_The smell nearly gagged him, the reek of rotting bodies and something fouler hung in the air. He walked carefully around the nearest pile of cadavers and came nose to nose with a twisted, misshapen. . . .beast. It looked like a cross between a mountain lion and a steer; the thing was definitely a meat-eater, Schuldig's half eaten body hung out of its mouth like a perverted marionette. Off to one side, Nagi's body lay whole and undisturbed, but his eyes stared blankly off into nothing. And Farfarello lay near him, still alive but bleeding from horrendous injuries._

"_They hurt," he moaned. "God is angry Jai hurts." The white-haired man looked at his leader. "Run Crawford! Don't let the Unseleighe bastard and his little toy get you! Oh it hurts, the agony!" He fell back against the cracked and crumbling pavement and let out a little sigh as his soul left his body._

_Crawford stepped back, his lunch threatening to make a return visit. He turned to run and standing there in the gloaming of the day stood Ailill and some kid of about thirteen or fourteen. The taller figure wasn't wearing his cloak and Brad got his first true look at the man who was pulling Rezac's strings. He was beautiful. Waist-length jet black hair that shone like a raven's wing framed a heart-shaped face. Almond-shaped, sapphire blue eyes glistened in the middle of that angelic face and the dark of his hair accented the deathly pallor of his skin. Two things drew Crawford's attention; one the man's eyes, his pupils weren't round, they were cat slit. And his ears; tall, graceful points stood about three inches from the crown of his head._

_Next to him was the teenager. He looked totally ordinary, except for the look of total and complete evil that was burned onto his features. Next to him was one of the misshapen creatures and he was running his left hand over the head of the beast, like you would pet a family dog or cat._

"_You see, my pet," Ailill said, stroking the boy's back. "You don't need anyone but me. I can give you all the power you need. Not only that, but I can also teach you to use it in the best way._

"_I don't think so, Ailill," the boy stated flatly. "I've decided that I don't need you either. You're become an albatross around my neck." He motioned to the creature at his side and the thing attacked the older man. When it was done, the beast turned and stalked toward Crawford. The brunette was frozen in place by shock and his mind screamed at his feet to move, to flee. Nothing happened. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't break awful glare of that ….thing._

"_Ah, Mr. Crawford, the one man that I can thank for everything he's done for me," the boy stated, flatly. "I am what I am thanks to your gentle care and sense of duty. I think you should have the same punishment as the rest of my captures … death." He motioned and the great animal crouched and sprung at the Seer._

_Crawford closed his eyes and prepared for his impending demise. Part of him hoped that if he died while in a vision, his body would continue on living._

"_Here, take my hand!" a voice broke through the paralytic spell. He reached for the proffered appendage, grasping it with everything in him. He was pulled into a different Tokyo, this one was normal with no piles of corpses or weird, ravenous creatures devouring everything in sight._

"_Thank you," Crawford gasped, a shudder running through his body at the memory of what he saw. He turned his attention back to his savior. The young man barely reached his shoulder; he had unbound hair that fell past his ankles and silvery-green eyes that bore right through him. His sweet, heart-shaped face was similar to Ailill's, but it lacked the overpowering sense of evil. Something about this one told the bespectacled man that he was young of age, but old in power. _

"_No problem," the new man answered. He turned and walked to a nearby bench. "Come, sit. We need to have a very serious talk. Oh, please forgive me, I'm known as Sybel, Mr. Brad Crawford."_

"_You know who I? That's surprising," Crawford answered._

"_And why shouldn't I know who you are? Our kind isn't exactly common even amongst the realm of the Gifted. Now come and sit." He patted the seat next to him._

"_As you wish," Crawford said, pushing his glasses firmly into place on his nose. He sauntered over and sprawled next to Sybel, taking a page out of Schuldig's book. Thinking of his orange-haired subordinate sobered him up._

"_Yes, you're thinking of the future that you Saw. I can't believe that you're going into such dangerous situations without the proper training. Don't you understand that you could have died? If your body dies in here there's a good chance that you'll cease exist in the real world also. You need to be better Shielded."_

"_And how should I do that?"_

"_That's where I come in. Oh and about what you saw; please remember that the future is always in motion, constantly flowing like a river. This is what happens if Ailill doesn't get his slimy paws on our Colby. You have to be able to see all possibilities."_

"_I see," Crawford cautiously answered._

"_And you will." Sybel touched the other Seer's forehead and drew the untrained man into his own mind. Looking around at the clutter, Crawford knew he had a lot of work ahead of him. "This is your center, fix it." _


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's the standard disclaimer: I don't own Weiss, so don't sue. All I own is a car that's on its last leg and a house that's falling down around my ears!**

**The Dragon of the East**

_'Yes!__ Yes!__Yes!__' _Echoed through Omi's mind as his body hit the floor; the information and power he had harbored within him poured out his mouth. A steady stream of fire blazed from his person, becoming a dragon in form as it raced for the unconscious figure on the infirmary cot. It surrounded the bed, burned away the bedding, mattress and melted the steel bedframe.

Aya sat up, his eyes staring blankly. He stood off the nothingness that supported his body and took a deep breath. The power poured into him and Yohji noticed that something was missing; the redhead's clothing had been burned away by the purifying fire.

The leggy blonde stared at his perfect body. Creamy white skin lay over lithe muscles, he looked a Greek god come to life. Maybe Eros or Apollo come down from Mount Olympus to mingle with mere mortals. On the godly body there wasn't an inch of fat and the few scars that shone whitely against that alabaster skin seemed to accent his masculine beauty rather than mar it.

Aya walked toward the group, the flames flickering in his hair and his half-aroused manhood bobbing from its bed of cherry-red curls. He stepped over and lifted Omi up from his kneeling position, pulled the petite blonde to him and devoured his mouth, draining him of the last of the Gift. "Yes," he murmured and then collapsed back into unconsciousness.

Yohji got a stiff elbow in his side from Barret. The temperamental man handed him a bandana with an amused look. The oaken-haired man looked at him blankly.

"You're drooling, idiot," Barret blandly stated. "Thought this might help."

"Ah, yeah," Yohji responded, discreetly wiping his mouth with the proffered cloth. "And Ken looks like he's about ready to kill our newest acquisition."

"Heh that might be kinda funny."

"Not really. We might need him at some point, unfortunately." Yohji held out his hand and helped Omi back to his feet. "You okay, Chibi?"

"I'm fine," the young man responded, giving the oaken-haired man a soft smile. "I don't think the person that kissed me was….did you get his name, Yohji-kun?"

"Ah, no. Things were a little chaotic when we met."

"We'll have to correct that oversight when he wakes up." Omi swayed a little and Ken pulled him into his arms so he could act as a scaffold. The petite blonde smiled his thanks and turned his attention back to the group. "I've never had a Gift react so violently. Maybe….." He shook his head. "That's neither here nor there. Ken, why don't you find Abyssinian some pajama bottoms? We wouldn't want him to catch a cold."

"Abyssinian?"

"Yes, Balinese…..Abyssinian. Doesn't he remind you of that proud, graceful cat; that red hair and wide, purple eyes?"

"Lavender," Yohji murmured. "Speaking of red hair, there was a guy with orange hair on the other team. He's a pretty strong telepath, but his shields were shit."

"Yes, well that discussion is for another day." Omi gave Yohji one of his sweet, puppy eyes smiles. That put the leggy blonde on alert. "As you already have a history with our newest member, why don't you put him into that monstrosity that you call a bed?"

"But he ... I …. There's no way in hell."

"Yohji," Omi said, becoming very serious. "He's been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours and I need someone I can trust to watch over him."

"I …. Alright. What should I look for?"

"Well, if he's turning blue, that's not a good sign. But other than that, he should wake up in a few hours. Do have the supplies to deal with overextension shock on hand."

"Gottcha." Yohji bent down and carefully picked up the young man who'd come, literally, flying into his life.

The scent of sandalwood and patchouli with a flowery undertone fill his nostrils. The redhead was heavier than he looked, all that muscle. He sighed and cuddled against Yohji's shoulder. If this guy hadn't just killed one of his team members, the oaken-haired man would find him totally irresistible. Even now he was having a hard time … hard time was right. His semi-aroused cock rubbed against the rough fabric of his jeans.

They finally reached Yohji's room and he had to finagle the unconscious man around so that he could put his key in the lock. He carried his burden through the doorway and straight to his messy bed. Thank god, he'd changed the sheets the day before; his highness might not appreciate sleeping in dirty bedding. He lay Aya down and his eyes were drawn to one thing; a thin trail of hairs that disappeared into the hastily pulled on pants. Cherry red hairs accented pale white skin leading his eyes from the man's bellybutton to the dangerously low-slung pants. He couldn't resist; he put is face down against that skin and lightly swiped his tongue around the sweet, natal dimple. Abyssinian tasted as good as he looked.

Yohji pulled away, covered the man up and walked into the adjoining bathroom. He needed a cold shower. He was becoming a pervert. To molest a defenseless man like that; maybe he just required a night of clubbing that ended with really hot sex in some love motel. He allowed the vision of two, beautiful slutty women lying with him in a cheap rat trap. The dream would have been perfect if the women hadn't kept changing to thin, muscular redheads. He groaned to himself and stepped into the shower. To hell with it, he was jacking off!

Aya stood in the doorway of a traditional _shinden-zukuri_. It didn't look familiar, but the need to go deeper into the abode grew stronger. He slipped out of his _zori_ and stepped up into the main house. He realized that he was wearing a midnight blue_ kimono_ with the _mitsu uroko kamon _of the Hojo clan under black _hakama_. Shion was tucked into his waistband along with a matching _wakizashi_. The clothing felt … normal; he wasn't used to it, but it felt like he was born to wear it.

The silence and peace of the house was broken by the sound of the wind through the trees, the soft songs of birds, wind chimes and the clack of a _shishi-odoshi_ fountain. The scent of cherry blossoms and other flowers filled the air and accented the slight tannin tang of the old wood. The ascetic decorating helped to sooth him and he realized that everything worked to create a calm, peaceful environment.

He traveled further into the house, following the feelings that guided him to a veranda the faced the garden. As he stepped onto the wooden deck, he noticed an elderly man sitting and staring at the flora that surrounded him. He looked like he was about sixty or seventy years old, but his body was hardened and well trained. A little pooch had formed on his stomach and his _yukata _did nothing to hide the fact. He looked at Aya and smiled.

"Took you long enough," the old man growled.

"Sorry, _sensei, _but I had to be born before I could come here," Aya answered, sitting down next to the man.

The old man threw back his head and chortled loudly. "I think that you're the first person who's ever pointed that out to me. As a matter of fact, you're the first person who has survived my attempts to pass on my power."

"I think I'm glad I didn't know that before this happened," Aya said, shivering.

"Don't try to play dumb with me," the old man snapped. "You would welcome death, right now. But you've got a wrong to right, don't you?"

"Yes, but…."

"No buts! You are the one person that can protect that child!"

"Yes, sensei," he answered. He rose to his feet and made a proper bow. "I'm known as Aya now."

"And I am the Dragon of Clan Hojo. I've been waiting for you since the fourteenth century and you just took your bloody time getting here."

"Where is here?"

"This is your center," Dragon stated. "I've never seen one quite so solid and settled in a person that has almost no training."

"Thank you, I think."

"I have given you all of my knowledge. It's all in this place and you will slowly start to absorb it. I only stayed around to make sure that you were ready for everything that you needed to know. But as you have a very good foundation on which to build you power on, I will take my leave and rejoin the rest of my family." He stood up and started to leave. He turned back to Aya and pointed to one of the paper doors. "There's something in there that I think you might like." He stepped off the veranda and disappeared.

Aya rose to his feet and headed to the door. His hand shook as he pushed the entryway opened and stepped in. Lying there on a luxurious futon was the leader of the team he had been ordered to destroy. The oaken-haired man was naked and stroking himself with long, languid caresses. Smokey, emerald eyes looked up at him and the long, golden legs spread, exposing that beautiful body to Aya's hungry eyes. He fell on him and began to ravish the proffered body.

He nuzzled the golden column of Yohji's neck and then bit down hard, marking his territory. Their naked bodies rubbed against each other as the redhead thrust deep into the hidden pucker of his partner. Then everything went black.

**Here are a few definitions for the words that I used.**

_**shinden-zukuri – a mansion or large traditional Japanese home.**_

_**mitsu uroko kamon – the triple dragon scale emblem of the Hojo Clan**_

_**shishi-odoshi – the bamboo fountain that makes a clacking noise, traditionally used to chase deer and crows away from crops.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's another chapter! Hope you enjoy it.**

**Now for the legal BS: Don't own so don't sue!**

**Divergence **

Yohji was having the most delicious dream. A thin, well-callused hand stroked aimless patterns over the taut, golden skin of his belly: occasionally drifting lower. Something hard and luscious pushed against his back and nestled in the crack of his ass. Velvety lips caressed his neck and shoulders sending shudders through the leggy blonde's body. The heavy, languorous feeling lasted until sharp white teeth bit the junction of his neck and shoulders, breaking the skin and drawing blood. The pain threw Yohji out of the dream and into reality.

"What the fuck?" he yelped, thrusting his elbow back into the gut of his attacker. The force of the blow pitched the other occupant of the bed out and onto the floor.

Aya sat on the floor, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs out of it. He tried to draw his thoughts into the proper pattern, but his brain felt like someone had pulled his head open and stirred it with a spoon. He had vague memories of being in a house and talking to an old man. After the meeting, he'd seen a vision of himself with the leggy blonde who had led the team he'd gone up against.

Yohji rolled over to glare at the man who had bitten him. Aya's tongue flickered out and licked the blood coloring his lips. There were definite changes in the redhead. His ear tails were gone; his hair in back now touched just below his shoulder blades and had deepened from its normal cherry red to a deep, burnished auburn. His lavender eyes blazed with an inner fire and were more almond-shaped than before. It was like he had been reformed on a celestial forge. He had become … gorgeous.

Aya rose to his feet and stalked toward the bed; his footsteps were bold, confident and quiet. He walked behind Yohji, kneeled on the bed and placed his lips against one seashell-shaped ear. "I'm sorry," he murmured against that delicate curve. "Let me make it up to you." He licked the ear and reached an arm out so that the blonde could see his hand. He closed his fist and then reopened it. A small, green flame danced in the cup of his palm. He pulled his hand back and placed against the injury to Yohji's shoulder.

Yohji pulled back, trying to get away from that blaze. He jumped as the redhead's hand touched the wound. Warmth and tingling flowed through him, reviving him. When the heat dissipated, he whirled around and was face to face with the newest member of the resistance. Cherry-red lips swooped down and captured his own. His lips parted and he took a breath to complain about the forward treatment of the upstart; Aya's tongue swept into his mouth, licking every crevasse and drawing out his sweetness. Then he drew away and headed out of the room.

Yohji sat there, his lips still poised from the steamy kiss. "You rotten, horny, redheaded bastard," he snarled at the empty door. "If you think you can get away with treating Yohji Kudou like that, you've got another thing coming." He stormed out of the bed and stalked into the adjoined bathroom.

The small room was tiled in green and gold tiles with touches of cream at the accent points. Geometric patterns covered the floor and halfway up the walls. Plain cream half walls and ceiling highlighted the porcelain. In the middle of the ceiling was a skylight that filled the room with natural light. The air smelled of the products he used when he showered. Passion fruit vines fill the flowerboxes below the aperture and their flowers added their scent to the space. Here and there grew Cattleya orchids, adding a showy splash of color and an exotic fragrance to the atmosphere.

He glanced in the mirror, stopped and stared again. After flipping on the light over the vanity, Yohji started swearing at what he saw in the looking glass.

"That fucking little bastard," he growled, peering at the giant love bite that colored the golden column of his neck. "That miniature prick got rid of the bite mark, but left the damned hickey! As soon as I see him, I'm gonna kick his ass!"

He grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cold water. He applied the makeshift poultice to the blemish and turned the water in the shower stall. He stripped off his pajama bottoms and climbed into the warm water. Somehow, he'd get even with that damned redhead.

Three days passed before Yohji saw his tormentor again. He'd been in the middle of running through his exercises when he felt a light touch on his Shields.

_:Yohji,: _Omi's voice resonated in his mind. _:Please join us in the mission room.:_

_:On my way,: _he responded, setting the practice simulacrum back to its neutral position and stepping through heavy shielding of the course. He hurried up to the room that they met in before every mission. The room was quietly decorated; soft aqua wall with touches of off-white, natural linen blinds covered the windows and a neutral shag rug with shades of aqua, cream and taupe softened the floor. Large, potted palms were in the corners-the prerequisite living thing in a room meant to plan death.

He stepped through the door and seven sets of eyes turned toward him. The first thing he noticed was Kavin sitting in the room without Sybel; that put his nerves on high-alert. He strode over to an empty chair and eased his body into to.

Kavin sat with his head resting on the table. His hair hung limp and greasy and a faint smell rose off his body. Black rings hung under his eyes and his cheeks looked slightly sunken in. Something had happened and it wasn't good.

"Alright, Kavin," Omi said, motioning to the disheveled man. "Tell us what's going on."

"About three days ago, right after Aya joined us, Sybel said he was going to try and make contact with the other team. The one that Yohji's team faced earlier in the day. He's been in a coma-like state ever since." The big man put his face in his hands. "I'm lost. I don't know what to do about him."

"I've asked Aya to look into the problem," Omi answered.

"And I have," the redhead responded. "He's still there, but he's not."

"That's really fuckin' informative," Barret snapped.

"That's all that I can tell you. He's still attached to his body, but his consciousness is somewhere else." He canted his head to one side, "It's almost like he's in deep conversation with someone. I can't get close enough to truly find out, but …"

"Thank you, Aya." Omi looked over at Kavin. "Why don't you go and get some rest? Aya and Yohji will watch over your charge. Don't argue, big man, just go, eat and take a shower; you reek!"

"Yeah, I know." The big man stood up and started to walk out of the room. He turned back and glared at the two men who were to watch his charge. "You two better not let anything happen to him. If even one hair on his head is displaced, I'll rearrange both your faces."

"Kavin, go get yourself cleaned up," Aya answered, giving the big man a half-grin. "We'll watch over him and he'll be fine until you rejoin us."

"Hn," was the only answer.

Aya and Yohji stood in tandem and walked out of the room. The tall blonde shot his companion dirty looks as they headed toward the Seer's quarters. The quiet redhead ignored the nasty glances and kept his eyes focused on the marble flooring. Being snubbed was a new feeling for Yohji; even his enemies tended to pay attention to him.

They reached the room and let themselves in. The austere surroundings were extraordinary neat, everything in its place and a place for everything. It made Yohji's skin creep. Nobody should be that well-organized.

"Let's go look in on our charge," Aya said, breaking the silence. He stepped into the bedroom and moved over to the supine figure on the bed. "He needs a bath and we need to turn him"

"Don't you think that Kavin already did that?"

"No, he's starting to get break down on his coccyx…."

"His what?" Yohji stammered.

"His butt."

"Why the hell didn't you just say that?"

"I think I did. Now help me get him turned and cleaned up."

They carefully turned him and wiped him down with warm water; turned him and changed the bedding under him. The leggy blonde was amazed with the ease that his partner did all these chores.

"Were you an orderly?" he asked after they were finished with their tasks.

Aya glared at him. "No," he murmured, looking at his hands. "My younger sister was injured in a hit and run accident and I helped take care of her after my parents brought her home."

Yohji reached out and clasped him on the shoulder. "I can imagine what Rezac and his cronies did to her."

"Let's not go there."

Yohji glared at the redhead. "When you Healed me the other day, you forgot something."

"What?"

"The hickey, you little bastard! You forgot all about the ginormous bruise on my neck."

Aya gave him a sly grin. "I'm somewhat like a wild animal."

"In what way?"

He leaned over and pressed his lips against Yohji's ear. "I always mark my territory."

"WHAT?!" he yelped, rising to his feet.

"Yohji, do you have to be so loud?" Sybel whispered from the bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**On the Precipice **

Crawford slowly rejoined the living. Several days had passed since the vision captured him. He cracked his eyes open and was hit with a feeling of disorientation; he still rested in the infinity room. He stretched his minor Gift of Telepathy to its limits, hunting for the rest of his team. The other three members of Schwarz lay nearby: each in his own mind, learning the basics that they should have been taught from the beginning. Something smelled rotten in the state of Denmark.

He sat slowly up, letting his body readjust to being erect. Once the room stopped spinning, he re-opened his eyes and allowed his mind to right itself. He then rose to his feet, the endless emptiness of space surrounding him on all sides. This little rift in time and space was the only place he felt confident Ailill couldn't snoop on him. He thought of the vision that had precipitated the visit from the enemy Seer and what he had learned of the mysterious figure who pulled Rezac's leash.

'_I need to speak to Farfarello,'_ he thought. _'That word he used, _Unseleighe_ isn't one that I've heard before.'_ His stomach chose that moment to declare war on his backbone. "Food and then more thought," he muttered, heading out of the room. He cobbled together a suitable meal, something that wouldn't go bad while he waited for the rest of the team to regain consciousness. He did stretches while he waited for the coffee to brew. When it finished, he poured into an insulated carafe and put the pot on a tray with the rest of the meal and carried his load into the hidden room.

He slowly ate his meal and drank the first cup of coffee. The scalding brew tasted like ambrosia and helped to finish clearing his thoughts. The bond Schuldig had forged between them was stronger, but not so intense that if one of them fell in battle the rest of the team would be incapacitated. It had also transformed to where he could easily find the other three without too much trouble.

That matter settled in his mind, he turned his attention to the problem of Ailill. The strange man was trouble; there had to be a way to stop him. The child they had been sent after seemed to be the key to all of this. There were things that he needed to talk to his team about, but the conversation would have to wait until the whole squad was awake and alert.

He sat, thinking, for hours. A faint flicker warned him of Schuldig's impending waking. He got a cup of now lukewarm coffee, slipped behind the Telepath, sat him up and began to carefully dispense him the warmish liquid. He was rewarded with the orange-haired man swallowing larger and larger amounts of the reviving fluid.

_:Mein Gott,: _the rough voice muttered into Crawford's head. _:I feel like someone's gotten into my head and tossed things about.:_

_:I think that's a side effect of the teaching we received. I have a feeling we just obtained the barest minimum to use our Gifts correctly. Just enough to make us more efficient, but not enough to cause us to become a danger to our enemies.: _Crawford answered. He switched to normal speech. "If I were in their place, that's what I would have done; if that."

"Crawford, you would have left them floundering in the water," Schuldig sniped, a sly grin lighting his face.

"Hm." Crawford looked at the somnolent form of Berserker. "There are more than a few questions that I have for Farfarello."

"Patience, mein Herr. Right now he's not talking."

The bespectacled man rose to his feet. "Stay here - eat, wake up and watch over the others."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Take a shower and get cleaned up. My skin and hair itch … I feel grungy." He moved to the door and reached for the handle. He looked back at the maniacal Telepath. "We'll be safe until the other two come around. So, just relax and recuperate."

"JA Wohl, mein Kapitän."

Crawford threw him a tight smile; then stepped through the door and into the real world. Schuldig ate, drank and practiced his Shields. Bored with that, he stood up and paced. When that didn't ease his nerves, he carefully started to insert himself into the minds of his defenseless companions.

Farfarello's mind featured a jumble of witches, demons, banshees and dark shadows that reached out to tear an unsuspecting soul to shreds. Nagi's, on the hand, had a seething mess of teenaged emotions. Dirty wet dreams collided with nightmares. The most clear image was of Crawford, standing stark naked, his cock at half-mast and a sly come-hither look on his face. The sadistic redhead filed that one away for future torment … of who he didn't know.

Nagi's mind flickered awake. Schuldig stepped over to the dorm-sized refrigerator and pulled out a can of juice. He slipped in behind the youngest member and began giving him the drink.

_:Mein kleiner Mann,: _Schuldig murmured into the teenager's mind.

_:Schuldig, why do you insist on using German?: _Nagi groused into his head.

_:Because I know how crazy it makes you, Kind:_

Nagi reached out and grabbed the juice bottle, swallowing the remaining fluid in several deep gulps. He sighed and was rising to his feet when Farfarello's mind snapped into wakefulness.

There was no faint flicker - Berserker's mind came immediately awake. He sat up, stood up and stalked over the other members of the team.

"Where's Crawford?" the white-haired man demanded.

"Taking a shower," Schuldig answered. "We're to wait here. Herr Kapitän will rejoin us in a short time. There's food and cold coffee over on the table."

The door to the infinity room opened and a clean, suited Crawford stepped over the threshold. His black hair was damp and slicked back; the white linen suit looked impeccable and perfectly pressed - not a wrinkle or speck of dirt anywhere. The scent of Drakkar Noir filled the air around him; the fragrance driving Schuldig crazy. Speaking of crazy, his neat and orderly appearance forced the orange-haired man to maintain careful control of himself. One of these days, he was going to muss that hair and thoroughly, permanently wrinkle that suit. The dark-haired man glared at him.

"We need to talk," Crawford announced, pulling a chair over to him. He looked at Farfarello, thoughtfully. "I had a vision of what will happen if Ailill gets the boy we were sent to retrieve…"

"And?" Schuldig questioned.

"It's not good. This team will be destroyed. In the revelation, Farfarello, you called Ailill by a word I've never heard before. You called him an Unseleighe; that along with the fact that you knew how to make him stop torturing Schuldig makes me think you've seen his kind before."

The Irishman canted his head to one side, a knowing look on his face. "He's an Unseleighe Sidhe."

Yohji, Aya, Micah and Barret strolled up to the courtyard in front of Rezac Industries, looking like nothing more dangerous than a group of high-spirited friends. A young man sat on a bench near the main entrance of the building with an open guitar case filled with dollar bills and loose change. The instrument was cradled in his arms and he coaxed a spritely tune from it.

Aya studied the man they'd been sent to meet. Long, glossy black hair flowed down his back. Large, dark brown eyes glittered in a finely boned face. Full lips smiled from a lightly tanned face.

Yohji brought his fingers up and whistled at the man. "Gypsy!" he hollered, waving at the guitarist.

"Yohji, how are ya man?" Gypsy answered, bringing the current song to a close. "What brings you here?"

"Heard you were entertaining the masses here and wanted you to meet my newest boyfriend, Aya." He gave the redhead a wicked smile.

Aya turned and gave him a smoldering look that turned the leggy blonde's knees to jelly. He stalked over to Yohji, grabbed him by the back of the head and planted a searing kiss on his lips. The redhead controlled the kiss and made it well known that there was no way in hell that he'd play uke to Yohji's seme.

_:Now, now children,: _Gypsy's thoughts broke through the fire building between the two men.

Yohji turned his attention back to the musician. "Whatcha got for us?"

"Wait … it'll become clear as soon as the sun sets," Gypsy said, picking out a lament on his guitar. The group stood there, patiently waiting for the proper moment.

Just after sunset, two men walked out of the building. Aya recognized the shorter of the two as Pendleton Rezac. The sight of the second man made his blood run cold and then hot. The dragon started to rise and he was having a _hard_ time keeping it under control.

Gypsy started playing a tune and the tall, black-suited man began to dance about in a disjointed manner. If looks could kill, Gypsy would be bleeding his life out on the pavement right then.

_:Well, gentlemen, we now know the big secret of Rezac Industries: _Gypsy spoke into all their heads.

_:And that would be?: _Yohji answered.

"Rezac's got himself a Dark Elf and he's not afraid to use him."


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for all who have read this. Please, if you like it could you review it? Remember, reviews are food for an author's muse.**

**This is going to be a warning, there will be some terms that you might not be familiar with and they are not German or Japanese (if the words aren't explained in the chapter, they will be defined at the end of the chapter and if you don't feel I'm doing then justice, Wiki is always good) . I'm falling back on my Irish roots and I hope that everyone enjoys my little scribbles.**

**As always, I don't own, I'm only borrowing them to feel my needs.**

**Stalking Darkness**

Yohji settled into one of the more comfortable chairs, waiting to hear what Gypsy had to say. He had seen with his own eyes what had happened when the Bard played his song. Aya sat perfectly still in a chair across the room from the leggy blonde, fighting with the dragon to keep him quiet. Right now wasn't the time for his power to spill out and he needed to bury him deeper. Seeing Ailill had brought his blood to a boil and all he wanted was to destroy the man who had planned the death of his parents and sister.

"All right, Gypsy, report," Omi said, rising to his feet and placing his palms flat on the table of the conference room.

"As you asked, I started watching Rezac Industries. You'd be amazed at how many people walk right by a normal street busker and don't give them a second thought." He smiled at the impatient look on the petite blonde's face. "No story is worth the telling without the entire tale, O' Great Leader."

"Don't get so lost in the tale that you forget the story we need to hear."

"Yes, Sir." Gypsy turned his attention back to his tale. "I noticed Ailill, that's his name if you're interested, and tried the same trick that I showed Yohji and the others. I played a song call, _'Fairy Reel' _to test my theory and he started to dance to the tune. Fortunately, I was out of sight and didn't perform the song for very long. So, I was able to confirm what I thought and now we somewhat know how Rezac's training his weapons."

"And what did you confirm?"

"That there's a very good chance that Ailill is a member of the Unseleighe Aos Sí, a dark Elf running loose in our city with an agenda of his own."

Aya sat forward and looked at the rest of the room. "Please forgive me, but I've got no idea about all this," he said.

"Forgive us, Aya," Omi answered. "I've overlooked the fact that you just joined us. The Aos Sí are also call the Tuatha De Danann or the people of Danu, Elves.

"And since you're Japanese, you've probably never heard of such creatures."

"I know some of what you're talking about, but I never expected beings from fairy tales to exist."

Gypsy looked at the redhead from the corner of one eye. "You carry the spirit of the Great Dragon in you and you don't believe in Elves?"

"I've met the Dragon, but I've never met an Elf. How do you even know that they live?"

"Gypsy belongs to a clan of peoples known as Travellers," Omi answered, sitting down.

"You mean that Gypsy is a gypsy," Aya responded.

"Exactly and his folk have a great deal of contact with the other beings that share our world." The petite blonde looked at the dark-haired musician. "What do you think Ailill wants?"

"More than likely, he's trying to find a way to destroy the Seleighe Court and more importantly, Low Court," came the assured answer. "It's the same story over and over ….. Dark Court tries to obliterate Bright Court and take over the mortal world. And we all realize what would happen if they were able to do that and it wouldn't be good."

Aya sat back and listened to the bantering conversation. If one concentrated on only the words, it seemed like no one at the table was in any hurry or had any doubts about their ability to stop one frenzied Elf. But energy wove its way through the unspoken signals and there was an undercurrent of fear and uncertainty. Even Yohji seemed to be serious and that was something new. He settled in and when the time felt right threw in his ideas, as a fresh perspective.

* * *

Ailill stormed through the door to his flat. That damned street musician had made a fool of him, how would someone as insignificant as an untrained busker know who and, more importantly, what he was. He flicked his wrist and called up the permanent Gate he had built in the relative safety of his apartment, stepped across the threshold and dropped his Glamour all in one motion. It felt good to lose that false mask he had to wear while in the human world. He stalked past his various minions, blasting a couple of the ugliest ones into dust, just for the perverse pleasure of watching them writhe and scream in pain. Perhaps later he'd spend a long time taking one of the more worthless ones apart, slowly.

He threw himself onto his obsidian throne, the smooth stone cradling his body and soothing his fractured nerves. The black and red color scheme of his great hall was very restful; black floors, wall and ceiling with touches of deep, blood red, looked like a gory funeral bier.

"Puck," he shouted, calling for his most trusted sycophant, not that he would trust him thoroughly. "Puck Robin, do not keep me waiting; you can be replaced."

"Yes, m'lord, here comes your faithful Puck," the wizened creature said, waddling out into the room. At one time, he had been a very handsome sprite, but over time his exposure to Ailill's evil had turned his looks to something almost unbearable. The once straight back had crooked and humped, leaving the … thing to look like a dowager queen. Previously fetching features were twisted and ugly. A messenger of the Light Court warped and distorted beyond all recognition.

"Did you have any luck retrieving that brat?"

"Puck sent out the redcaps and banshee, but none came back."

"Not one?" Ailill asked, sitting forward on his throne.

"Aye, master, not one."

"And why didn't you go after them?"

"Because the master has made it so that poor Puck cannot leave his stronghold," the misshapen creature ground out. "Puck then sent out the Púca and they returned with tales of ground sown with iron caltrops and a protective barrier of blessed salt."

"Someone knows too much," Ailill ground out. He stood up and stalked across the dais and stepped down the three short stairs. He grabbed the wizened figure and threw him against the distant wall. "Find a way to get me that brat and do it now!" He stopped and thought a wicked smile crossed his lips. "Send _Her_ out. Set her on that tall blonde, the one that interfered with the retrieval of the child the first time."

"Yes, master," the broken creature responded. "Puck will see to sending the green maiden out."

"Good, do not disturb me until I call," Ailill said, striding past his major domo, grabbing up one of the less creatures in his court and disappearing into his private chambers.

Puck glared at the door as it shut, his anger rolling off him like a miasma. "One day Puck will get his revenge and then Ailill will be the slave and Puck the master."

* * *

Yohji had thought that Omi was joking when he ordered the leggy blonde to take a bodyguard with him as he went to the green grocers. Aya had joined him in the passenger seat of Seven, his katana resting against the door and floorboards of the vehicle.

"You didn't need to come with me," Yohji griped, casting the auburn-haired man a dirty look out of the corner of his eye.

"You heard what Omi said, none of us are supposed to leave the compound by ourselves. Rezac and Ailill are just looking for a chance to get rid of one of us and they've got that team of ill-trained assassins they've turned loose."

"I think I can handle a couple of losers like them," the tall blonde muttered,

"Then you're a fool. In any battle a poorer trained army with superior numbers can and often does win. It they attacked four on one, they could attack from all sides and flatten you." Aya looked out the window and snorted his disgust. "So, just shut up and drive."

"Just shut up and drive," Yohji mocked in a high-pitched voice.

"Kudou, don't make me hurt you," Aya said, his voice dropping a couple of octaves. The low, satin almost purr sent a shiver down the oaken-haired man's spine. There were times that the smaller man could be downright sexy. There was something about that low, soft voice which could leave the taller man a quivering, trembling wreck.

They arrived at the store and got out. Aya decided the best thing would be for them to split the list in two and meet after they were done.

Yohji flew through the store, grabbing everything on his part of the list. He paid for his purchases and headed out to Seven to wait for the moody, bossy redhead. Damn he needed a smoke and a single glare from those lavender eyes had stalled his hand on its journey toward his pack. He'd grabbed a quick toke and be ready to deal with Aya.

He stepped out and sprawled on the hood of his precious car was the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen. Pale, creamy skin was barely covered by a halter top and Daisy Dukes. Long, platinum-blonde hair fell to her waist and brilliant green, almond-shape eyes challenged him to come closer and take what she was offering. A faint alarm rang in his head, but the drive to conquer her was too strong. She smiled at him, exposing white, slightly vampiric teeth through blood-red lips.

He took a step toward her and a cloud hid the sun for a brief moment. In the shade, her skin took on a slightly green cast. The alarms rang louder in his head, but there was no avoiding his fate now. She had him totally under her spell. The small part of Yohji's brain that still functioned realized that this was the end. There'd be no escaping his death this time.

Aya stepped out of the building and noticed the tableaux unfolding in front of him. Yohji was slowly pacing toward a woman seated on the hood of Seven, waiting for the leggy blonde to step into her trap. She looked like a Black Widow luring her mate to his death. There was only one problem with that scenario; Yohji didn't belong to her - he was Aya's and the redhead didn't share his toys.

"Hey, Bitch, get you fucking hands off my property!" he growled, sending out a lash of power, knocking her from her perch. He opened the car door and pulled out Shion, the sword flying to his outstretched hand. He met the weapon halfway between where he'd been and the place he wanted to be. He brought the blade down and sliced the creature in half, from the top of her head. She let out a wailing scream and then disappeared in a blaze of fire and smoke.

Aya flicked the blade to clean it and careful sheathed in without looking at either the katana or the sheath. He stormed over to Yohji, grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled the taller man to him. Their lips met, Yohji's parted and Aya showed him who he truly belonged to. The redhead broke the kiss and looked at the blonde. "Mine," was all he said.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry about the wait, my sister dropped about 450cc of sweet tea onto our laptop and fried the motherboard, but one of her friends had an extra computer that we could use until we got our repaired and so here's the next chapter!**

**Please read and review, that's the only way that I know you're still interested in my little drabbles.**

**As always, don't own so don't sue. **

**To Dance With the Dragon**

_Yohji was dreaming: he knew this world he walked in was nothing more than a hallucination. He stood in the Shielded workroom, fighting the simulacrum that worked as sparring partners, blowing off some steam. He couldn't believe that he'd been taken in by that thing. The woman who had spread herself all over Seven and contaminated the vehicle with her presence. And to top it all off, Aya had come charging to his rescue and claimed the leggy blonde as _his _property. _

_Granted, it wouldn't be the first time that Yohji had been in a homosexual relationship; however he was always the top. There was no way in hell that he was going to bottom for someone who was not only younger than him, but also shorter than him. One of the false weapons attacked him and he nearly got singed by it._

"_You're being clumsy again," Aya's deep, shudder inducing voice came from behind him. "You know that the next time, I won't be there to pull your ass of the fire."_

_Yohji turned and blasted the smug redhead with all his power. A vortex of wind swirled around the smaller man, stripping him to the skin. He gave the oaken-haired man a wicked sultry smile and sent an attack of his own. The leggy-blonde was surrounded with fire; he could feel the flames dancing on his skin, caressing it, burning away his clothing. He shuddered, his body hardening at the delicate strokes. He moaned deep in his throat as warm, strong, smooth arms wrapped around him._

_Aya attacked his neck with lips, teeth and tongue; licking, nibbling, sucking and kissing. He left a line of dark love bites, marking Yohji's golden flesh. He softly murmured one word into the blonde's ear, _mine._ Their bodies began that ancient dance that would leave them sated and satisfied. Yohji ground his ass against the hardness of Aya's groin and the redhead grabbed his hips, pinning him in place and leaving ten more marks of ownership on his hips._

"_Well, isn't this sweet?" a smooth, malevolent voice broke into the lust-filled haze around them. Standing not more than four feet from the pair was Ailill. His face was bare, the magic hiding his true form released. Jet black hair framed a bone-white face with fox-like features, cat-slit eyes and sharply pointed ears that rose past the crown of his head. The aura of absolute evil rolled off him like a poison miasma and they could feel that he enjoyed the malignant strength he possessed._

_He gave them a fierce, vampiric smile and casually tossed an orb of power at them. Aya reacted faster than Yohji could and threw up a wall of power to protect them. Then he responded and hurled a ball of flame toward their attacker. The dark one brushed it aside as if it were nothing more than a gnat or fly. Aya hissed under his breath and fell a step back. _

"_Yohji, when I say, repeat your trick with the wind. Do you understand," Aya quietly said._

"_Gotcha, Ayan," he responded. He watched as Aya's body stiffened a tad with the nickname, but he never took his eyes off their opponent._

_Aya gathered every bit of energy he could without taking any from Yohji and formed it into a whirling funnel of fire. With a grunt he sent the vortex toward the enemy. "_Now_!" he barked at the leggy blonde._

"_Here it goes." Yohji sent the winds swirling around Aya's creation. The flames and wind joined together, making the heat hotter and the winds stronger. The two powers fed off each other, becoming stronger and more potent. They hit the evil doer and he evaporated, leaving a pile of ashes where he had been standing._

"_Damn!" Yohji swore. "That asshole interrupted us right in the middle of what we were doing."_

"_Shut up, Yotan," Aya growled, grabbing him again. "I believe we were right about there." He bent the leggy blonde over and called up a bed of flames. Yohji gave him a wicked smirk and created a coverlet to place on the flames. Aya threw him down to the bed and flipped the blonde onto his stomach. Hot kisses were planted on Yohji's back, just above the crack of his ass and Aya's strong, silken hands ran up and down his body. The steel under silk lips crept up his spine, stopping only to nibble and lick the very sensitive area. Then lips and teeth attacked his ears and Aya began making the most obnoxious buzzing noise in his ear._

'_What the fuck?'_ he thought. _'Buzzing? Why would he be doing that? Oh, shit! The alarm!'_ He came awake with a jolt. Just when things were getting interesting his damned alarm clock just had to go off and destroy the wonderful fantasy and leave him with a raging hard on. He sighed and rolled out of bed. "Looks like it's gonna be another cold shower day," he sighed and headed into the bathroom. That damned redhead was getting to be a royal pain, but not in the right areas.

He stepped out of the shower and began drying himself off. His mood was very sour, taking a frigid bath every morning wasn't how he planned on starting the day. He slithered into a pair of jeans and started to fix his hair when he was startled by a sound that he hadn't heard before outside a training drill. The lighting in the room turned red and an alarm screamed.

"Intruder alert … main building …administration offices," came the mechanical voice. "Repeat …intruder alert …main building …administration offices." The voice repeated the message over and over.

Yohji slid his feet into a pair of boots, threw on a tee-shirt and raced out of his room. He nearly ran Aya down at the corner and the two of them joined the adults, sprinting toward the danger as the teenagers and other children were herded into a safe room, one with an escape mechanism. They could see Kavin towering over the rest of the group.

"Don't tell me that Sybel is going to be there with us," Aya gasped as they ran.

"Yeah, he's our ace in the hole," Yohji panted. "His Sight works in both long and short view. He can See when things are getting a little sticky." He flashed the redhead a cocky smile. "Don't worry, Kavin can protect him. Besides, he's never on the frontline. He'll be able to direct us without putting himself at too much risk." Yohji saw the white-haired man slow down and start walking. The others around him did the same and the leggy blonde got a quizzical look from his partner. "It seems that whatever's here isn't a hazard and there's no reason to hurry."

Aya slowed to a walk, but stayed right at Yohji's side. A thrill of excitement raced through the tall man's frame and he had to suppress a shudder. Maybe things were looking up.

"Alright, everyone," Omi said, bringing the group to a halt. "Sybel, what do you see?"

"That there's no danger to us or any of the children. Our guests are impish and mischievous but they are here to help and not harm. Just remember to handle them with respect and everything will be okay."

"Fine," the petite blonde responded. "Yohji, Aya, Ken and Barret will join me in greeting our unexpected callers. Ian, Tony you will return to the command center and keep us updated on the movements of the adversaries. The rest of you go and help calm the children down. Oh, Sybel and Kavin, the two of you will join us also." He looked over the crowd, allowing them to feel and see his confidence. "Dismissed."

The crowd dispersed and the chosen ones walked into Omi's office. Sitting behind the petite blonde's desk was a blonde god. He looked similar to Ailill but his hair was platinum blonde and his eyes a brilliant, cat's eye green. Long graceful ears peeked out of his hair, standing less than an inch above the crown of his head and those luminous eyes were cat-slit. He was tall, not quite as lofty as Kavin, and lithely muscled. Standing behind him were two men that looked almost the same, but they had more muscle on them and were carrying weapons. Those two Yohji wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley; he'd get his ass creamed. And sitting on the couch in the room was a fourth man. His ears soared above his head, standing a good three to four inches above his crown.

"Was all that due to us?" the blonde behind the desk asked.

"Ah, yes," Omi responded. "How did you manage to get through our defenses?"

"They were not all that hard to get around. I am sorry about the entire ruckus though."

"Well now that we've established that you're so much stronger than we are, what do you want?" Yohji asked before engaging his brain.

Omi shot him a glare. "As my subordinate said, what are you doing here?"

"We have come to help," Desk said, giving the humans a bright smile.

"What the brat means is now that Ailill has gotten involved with things that he shouldn't have, we are free to respond in kind," couch answered. "Please forgive our rudeness. I am Seáin, the one seated behind the desk is Juriki and the muscle standing next to him is Tabor and Conor. We represent the Seleighe Low Court and we are here to help."

"Alright, but what's this about Ailill?" Omi asked, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"Easy," Gypsy said from the doorway. "The bright and dark courts agreed not to get involved with the human world or at least not to interfere with us to avoid an all-out Armageddon that would most likely kill off nearly all life on Earth." The Bard walked over to the desk and knelt in front of the man sitting behind it. "My liege," he said, executing an elaborate bow.

_:Hope he doesn't expect that from us,: _Aya whispered into Yohji's mind.

_:Yeah, I'd get lost in the middle.:_

_:It's degrading. No man should bow and scrape to another. And from what I see, he's nothing more special than any of us. And you're a lot better looking.:_ Yohji blushed, slightly, at that declaration. Maybe things were looking up.

_:Degrading is it?: _an unfamiliar mind voice broke into their conversation. _:I have never been told that doing anything for me is undignified before.:_

Aya glared at Juriki, giving him his _shi-ne_ look. One of the elven-bookends behind the de facto leader moved slightly and smacked the man on the back of the head. The other one leaned down and whispered something in Juriki's ear, causing him to shudder a little. Seáin laughed and then spoke a few words in a language that sounded like water flowing over rocks. It was smooth and liquid and touched a part deep in Aya's psyche that he hadn't known existed until hearing those words.

"Please forgive Juriki," Seáin said, turning his attention back to the group. "He tends to forget himself and likes to show off, just like any child."

The man behind the desk threw Seáin a dirty look and cleared his throat. "Well, now that we have all been introduced shall we get down to business?"

"As you wish," Omi responded. "Again, why the interest in us now?"

"As Gypsy stated, until Ailill showed his hand we could not get involved with your fight." Juriki held up his hand to forestall anyone breaking into his speech. "If the Seleighe and Unseleighe Courts began to fight a true battle, then all life on this planet could and most probably would be destroyed. Earth would be a dying planet and if humans died, the light and dark courts would not be far behind."

"Why is that?" Aya asked quietly.

"Because, despite what the dark court believes, we need humans to break up the monotony that invades our lives in Underhill; besides, nothing could be created without you and your nimble minds," Juriki responded. "I many not be as old as my companions, but I have no desire to die. So, here we are, ready and willing to fight along side humans once again."

"What do we need to do?" Omi asked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Another chapter for y'all! Hope you enjoy it and remember, the more reviews the faster I get chapters out!**

**Now the legal stuff: I don't own Weiss or any of the characters because if I did, it would be rated NR-17!**

**Time to Waste**

Crawford gripped Schuldig's hips as he thrust deeper into the orange-haired man's body. The Telepath had used his Gift and now Oracle couldn't tell where his body started and his partner's began. He hit the other man's sweet spot and fireworks danced on his eyelids.

_:Ja, right there! Mein Gott, Crawford you're killing me,: _Schuldig groaned into his head.

"I'm not killing you," he growled. "If I was trying to kill you, you'd be dead. Now shut up and enjoy the ride." He smacked the proffered, pink ass hard, inciting another deep, moan from the other man.

The dark-haired man closed his eyes and reveled in the difference between what Schu had been like before their training sessions and now. Granted, he got a little sloppy during their fuck times, but most of the time he wasn't leaking his Gift onto everyone in sight and their minds weren't mixing with his. All this combined to create a stronger, more stable Telepath.

All of them were able to use their Gifts to their fullest. No longer were Crawford's visions threatening to overwhelm him to the point that he couldn't tell the present from the future. Not only that, but he now could tell which one was the most probable to come to fruition. Nagi's Telekinesis still leaked out a bit, the light wind never leaving his body, but it wasn't wearing him out like it had been. But the greatest change had happened with Farfarello. The white-haired man no longer required the straightjacket; he didn't have the berserk tendencies that had bothered the team before. Crawford still didn't know what his true Gift was, but the man still seemed totally impervious to pain.

The other group had trained the four of them to the best of their abilities, something that the bespectacled American wouldn't have done in their place. That made him worry about their motives; no one did something for nothing, that wasn't the way of the world. Or at least the world Crawford was used to, things that didn't fit into his view of the world caused him to lose sleep.

A mental slap came out of nowhere, knocking him silly for a brief moment. _:Pay attention to me!: _Schuldig groused into his mind. _:You can worry about all that at some other time. You're giving me a complex and hurting my feelings.:_ The annoying German gave him a teasing pout and thrust back harder. Crawford groaned and gripped his slender hips tighter, leaving perfect finger-shaped bruises on them. He then pulled his partner up so that the slightly taller man was sitting in his lap, back to chest. The change in angles made the flame-haired beauty writhe and squirm harder as his sweet spot was mercilessly rammed by the American.

They both were poised on the precipice of paradise when another being entered into the room with them. They both stopped and looked at the creature. He stood less than four feet from the floor; at one time he may have been taller, but now his back was so warped and twisted he looked like a midget. Features that once had been pleasing to the eye were distorted into a mask of undying ugliness. The only saving grace about his features were the brilliant green, cat-slit eyes that stared out of that face and fine, curly auburn hair that rippled down his back.

Schuldig hissed at the being, his body drawing closer to Crawford's. The thing gave him a twisted smirk and turned to leave the room.

"The master calls you, that he does," Puck said as his hand touched the doorknob. "Puck wouldn't keep him waiting too long if he were you, that he would not." The deformed creature gave them a rotting-tooth smile and then vanished into the air.

"Well, that really kills the mood," Schuldig muttered, settling deeper into Crawford's lap. "You probably don't want to finish…Yes!" he groaned.

"What made you think I wouldn't finish what I started?" Crawford growled into the flame-haired man's ear. "Unlike you, Schu, I always complete the current project I'm working on." He nipped the shell-shape ear on the side of his partner's head and drove in brutally, trying to forget the being that had interrupted their playtime. A few more good thrusts and neither of them could think about anything.

Crawford lay there as thought returned and considered what he had seen. That _thing_ wasn't human, but he seemed to be as trapped by Ailill as the Schwarz team was. As soon as he felt Schuldig's mind return from paradise, he slid out of bed and headed into the bathroom

"Leaving so soon?" Schuldig shouted after him.

"Yes, I don't think it's a good idea to keep Rezac and Ailill waiting, do you?"

"_Nein, Blödmann_, stupid jackass." The orange-haired man slithered out of the bed and walked toward his leader, hips swaying.

* * *

Crawford drew random doodles on the napkin he had been using as a coaster for his coffee cup. This bitch session with Rezac had become annoying about thirty minutes ago and he felt ready to just get up and walk out. So far Ailill hadn't made an appearance like that twisted creature said and to hear the same things over and over with the only changes being the words used to describe their failures was tedious at best.

"Crawford. Crawford, are you listening to me," Rezac shouted, putting his face close enough to Crawford's that their noses were touching. The man's fetid breath caused Brad to gag and pull away.

"Rezac, try using toothpaste," Schuldig drawled. "Remember, we all share everything and your breath is something I could do without."

"Damn freaks," Rezac muttered as he pulled away from the bespectacled man.

"Yes, but we're freaks that you need right now," Crawford responded, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

The small man opened his mouth to give Schwarz another scathing dress down when the door opened and Ailill stepped over the threshold with his little crony with him.

"I've decided that you four are to be removed from the child retrieval."

"Really? And what do you want from us now?"

"There's a street musician that performs in front of this building and I want him dead. More than dead, I want him totally destroyed. I think that the four of you should be able to handle one scrawny minstrel."

* * *

Yohji shimmied down the drainpipe from his third story window. The appearance of the Elves and Aya's constant following him around drove him to the edge of insanity. He needed a night of dancing, teasing and cheap, nasty sex and that he wouldn't get in the hotbed of intrigue his home had become. He ran over to Seven, threw himself into the driver's seat, started the car and peeled out of the parking lot in the direction of the Strip.

Aya stepped from the shadows and ran to the cab he had waiting further down the block. "Follow that car," he barked the cliché at the driver and settled back into the cheap vinyl seats. The faint scents of tobacco smoke, BO and vomit wafted up to his nose. Now he remembered why he hated using any form of public transportation. As soon as possible he intended using his monthly stipend to get a proper vehicle, but right now beggars couldn't be choosey.

When they reached the Strip, Aya lost sight of Seven and had the driver slow down and search every parking lot up and down the busy boulevard until at last he spotted the car near one of the loudest bars in area.

"Here," he snapped, pushing a neat wad of bills into the waiting cabby's hands. "Don't bother waiting."

Yohji stepped up the bouncers and gave them a big grin as one let the velvet rope down to permit him by. The relentless pulse of the music drew him in and he answered the siren's call. He stopped at the bar, ordered a drink and downed it in one gulp. Then he headed to the dance floor. Lithe, young bodies ground against each other and Yohji joined the primitive choreography, rubbing his body against another, semi-nude body. Two scantily-clad females draped themselves over him. Somewhere in the fray he lost his shirt and his skin-tight jeans were unbuttoned, exposing the top of his love trail.

In between songs, a stirring in the crowd drew his attention. Standing in the doorway was a familiar redhead. Aya had dressed in skin-tight, black leather jeans with a formfitting midnight blue vest. His face was lightly made up; light enough that if Yohji didn't know better, he would has said he wasn't wearing any. And that damned earring, the plain gold bar dangling from a gold ball. His auburn hair had been pulled off his face and the rest cascaded down his back in loose waves.

Aya looked over the crowd and saw the object of his desire being drooled on by a couple of scanky-looking women and a whore of a man. Anger rolled off him as he stalked through the crowd toward his….property….no, mate. The throng parted before him and he walked with ease over to the golden god in front of him. He reached out and tangled his fingers into the blonde's hair, pulling him down for a brutal kiss.

Yohji stood completely still, like a wild animal trapped by a bright light. When his lips were captured, he tried to take control of the embrace and got those tender organs bit for his trouble.

"What did I tell you, baka?" Aya growled into his ear.

"I don't know, Ayan; what did you tell me?" he answered, trying to keep things light.

"You're mine, Yotan and the next time I see someone mauling you I will kill them." He threw the tall blonde over his shoulder and headed for the stairs that he noticed as he entered the building.

Yohji lay, stunned, over Aya's shoulder; he didn't know whether he should fight or just give in. His pride demanded a battle, but his body was more than willing to surrender: basically blind and screaming for what the smaller redhead had to offer. He smiled as they headed up the stairs toward the neat, sound insulated rooms above the club. They weren't much, but the space could be rented by the hour, night, week or month. Aya stopped at the desk in the foyer to rent one of the cubicles for the rest of the night, without putting his precious burden down.

He took up the key and headed down the hallway to their private space. He unlocked the door and threw Yohji onto the neat, clean-sheeted bed. He pulled a switchblade out of one boot and began to slice the leggy blonde's clothing off of him.

"Ah, Aya," he murmured, shivering at the sight of the gorgeous auburn-haired man standing over him.

"Hn?"

"I think I'm going to need my clothes to get home."

"Don't worry," he whispered, "I can fix things in the morning."

"Ah, okay then. Carry on." He fell back against the bed and let the smaller man do as he would.

Aya reached out into the air and drew something out of nothing. A tube of lubricant rested in his hand and he greased up three fingers. Carefully he knelt on the bed and slipped one finger deep into Yohji's hidden pucker. He moved it in and out, searching for that one secret spot. He slipped another finger in and began scissoring them apart to loosen up the tight ring of muscle. He found that one area that he had been looking for and Yohji saw stars behind his eyes.

Aya quickly stripped, lube his cock up and thrust it deep into the willing body. They propelled their bodies together, power rising around them. Wind rose up and swirled about the room. Then flame came up and joined the wind, melding their souls into one. Finally the Dragon danced with the Eagle and their powers were more than doubled.


	10. Chapter 10

**Here's the next chapter in the never-ending saga of Weiss, Schwarz and the others.**

**Now for the legal crap; don't own. As a matter of fact I own very little. Don't sue! **

**The Danse Macabre**

Gypsy sat in the protected alcove and played his guitar. His choice in music for that day had a melancholy air to it. Sybel had come to him before he left for the day and warned him to be alert and ready for an attack. The seemingly never ending battle against Rezac and Ailill weight heavily on his heart and it showed in his music. He threw the small amount of cash that had been tossed into his case a morose look; thank the goddess he didn't need to feed himself with his earnings from busking. He put his instrument carefully down, rose to his feet and walked away from his sheltered spot to stretch and get his head back in the game.

He strolled over to a nearby grassy knoll and sat in the sun, drawing energy from the All Mother. It amazed him how even in the crowded city where most of the earth was contaminated by the chemicals and hatred of man, Her power remained strong; it cleansed what little terrain was exposed.

'_Get your head out of your ass, boyo,'_ he thought to himself. _'There are plots afoot. An Unseleighe Sidhe is wandering loose in the town and pulling the strings of a power mad idiot. Now, go back and make those fools who don't appreciate good music when they hear it dance to your tune.'_

He returned to his chosen spot and began playing again. Just to tweak Ailill's nose, he started his set with a Faery Reel and then moved into the 'King of the Faeries.' He allowed his mind to slip into a meditative state, permitting it to relax but stay alert for danger.

When trouble came it didn't attack him straight on. Four wolf-like human predators surrounded the alcove, blocking his escape from all sides. Just like a hunting pack, the quartet impeded his flight, assuming he was easy prey. They had another thing coming.

He scanned the four men and attacked the weakest link, but it wasn't the youngest. The white-haired, scarred man felt familiar but the middle of a battle wasn't the time to figure out how he knew someone. He modulated his song, using it as a weapon and driving his chosen foe to his knees.

"Hurts," Farfarello moaned, grabbing at his head.

Crawford snarled and motioned the remaining two to attack. _:Nagi,: _he barked. _:Take out his guitar and Schuldig, get in there and mess up his mind.:_

_:Ja wold, mein Kapitän,:_ came the orange-haired man's bright answer.

_:Yes, sir,:_ Nagi responded.

The only warning Gypsy had was a low, almost inaudible groan just before the strings on his instrument broke. "You stupid, little bastard," he cursed at the petite Japanese boy. "Those were professional grade strings and cost a boatload," Gypsy snapped. "I'm gonna take them out of your hide."

"So be it." Nagi threw the bulk of his talent at the unprotected man. He power slid off a protective barrier that hadn't been there a few heartbeats ago.

Schuldig assailed the man, his mind bouncing off the defensive shield. He increased his efforts and joined with the little, dark-haired boy to bring down the enemy's barricade.

Crawford cursed under his breath. Things weren't going the way they should be and his Gift, that had been so reliable since receiving his training, failed him now. He could See nothing and it made him very nervous.

_:Farfarello,: _he snarled, mentally slapping the scarred man. _:Get it together and get back in there.:_

_:_ _Bard Tá, an fear a bard! Ní mór dúinn ionsaí dó nó beidh orainn a bheith cursed. A bard, áit ... conas ... conas a dhéanann duine a ilk ann fós inniu?: _Farfarello muttered into his teammates' minds.

"Farfarello," Schuldig yelled at him. "We can't understand a word of what you're saying."

"Jai, Jai," Gypsy chanted, "run away. Don't look back and return to yesterday." He had finally remembered where he had seen the eye-patched man before; Jai was his student. The bond between teacher and student could be as strong as the parent/child one and he exploited it to the fullest. He had to use every weapon in his arsenal, being out numbered four to one. His Gift used power and it drained from him like water from a leaky bucket.

Gypsy reached into an inner pocket and pulled out an Irish whistle and played a quick tune on it. Desperate times call for reckless measures. The first few bars of "Elf Call" filled the air and it became heavy with anticipation.

* * *

Rulan sat on his motorcycle and took a huge bite of the chilidog he'd ordered from a street vendor. He and his partner Jareth were waiting and acting as backup for Gypsy; although the little Bard didn't know they were there. Sybel gave them their orders and had neglected to tell him.

The crotch-rocket beneath him shuddered with barely contained exhilaration. The bike was more than it seemed and could be as great an asset as the dark-haired man straddling the matching half of the set. A young woman walked by and gave them a wolf-whistle; Rulan blew her a kiss. What she saw were two glorious men with the sharp, beautiful features of Elves but with differences.

Rulan had flame-red, shoulder-length hair and turquoise eyes. His skin glowed with tanned health which accented his hair and eyes, not that he was at all vain. And Jareth had the blue-black, chin-length hair and sapphire eyes of his Elven mother and the tanned skin of his beach bum father. His features weren't as sharp as a full-blood, but they were still drop dead gorgeous.

The bike trembled again, his patience wearing thin. Rulan stroked the gas tank and tried to calm his Steed down. _'Easy boy,' _he thought toward the mount. _'The time will come, sooner than we think.'_

"Is Featherfoot getting edgy?" Jareth asked, looking toward the redhead.

"That he is. Something better happen soon or he's going to make it happen."

"I told you that you should choose a more….hm, how does one say it….mature mount."

"He's perfect for what he do here. As a matter of fact, he's better for the upper world than for Underhill. He was wasting away there, dying of boredom."

"Weren't we all?" the dark-haired man said, laughing. "It's about time that Juriki joined the fight."

"Goddess, how many times did we tell him that we needed his assistance, just to be blown off with that _'Low Court is not allowed to interfere with the Upper World until the Unseleighe Court does'_ bullshit?"

"Yeah, same song, different…" A wave of Bardic magic rolled over them and before they could finish their dogs, the bikes had taken off, heading to the rescue.

* * *

Gypsy held off the remaining three attackers, but his power drained from him faster and faster. The edges of his sight were growing black and the center was graying. If help didn't come soon, his life would be over one way or another. If the wolves didn't kill him, Ailill would. Better to face the pack and die a quick death then to let the Unseleighe bastard take him apart just to see how he ticks. What he wouldn't give for a gun right about now.

The distant sound of twin motorcycles caught his attention. The hum changed; it became the steady beat of horses' hooves. He gave his attackers a wicked grin.

"If I were you, m'boyos, I'd be for running right about now," Gypsy said, letting the Irish lilt come out in his speech. "I don't think that the Calvary is goin' to let you off so easy."

"And you're not in a position to be bragging about the Calvary or anything else at the moment," Crawford shot back. "Schu, Nagi take him now!"

"Got it Herr Kapitän," Schuldig answered, moving at his normal speed.

The orange-haired man would have moved quickly if he were attacking a normal man, not one used to dealing with the Sidhe and their preternatural speed. Compared with them, he was a snail and easy to hold off for the amount of time needed.

* * *

Yohji floored the gas pedal on Seven; causing the car to leap forward. Aya sat in the seat next to him, using his Gift to move cars and trucks out of their way. Sybel had stumbled into Yohji's room without his guide in tow and ordered the two of them out of the compound to Gypsy's rescue. Something happened outside of the Seer's purview and only after the die was cast did he See what the future held in store.

They had been curled up in bed, both of them partially clothed, kissing, touching and slowly fanning the low burning embers of their lust. Yohji noticed one thing about their bond; the more time they spent together, the stronger it became. He wouldn't have noticed it, but Aya had seen something that reminded him of his family and the leggy-blonde had felt the sharp stab of his pain. He had charged into Omi's office and demanded to know just what the hell was going on. The only answer he had received was a small, knowing smile.

"Yohji," Aya gasped from between clenched teeth. "Pay attention to the road. You can woolgather after we're done with this bullshit."

"Sorry," the oaken-haired man said, turning his full attention back to the road.

They came squealing around a corner in time to see two men on motorcycles pull the Bard out of danger. Three of the four original attackers were there and the fourth one came tearing back from wherever he had been. It looked like things were well in hand until one of the men was shot off his bike; the bullet tore through his shoulder, leaving it smoking and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Aya began drawing as much power as he could; he had a very bad feeling that they were going to need every ounce of energy they could spare.

"I'm going to put up a wall of flame between the one that fell off his bike and Schwarz, got it Yohji?" he growled.

"Yeah, I … oh SHIT!" Yohji gasped as Ailill stepped from the Rezac building. Behind he was a sea of walking corpses, in various states of decay. The Unseleighe Sidhe strode to one side and barked a word in a low, guttural language. The living dead poured from the structure, heading into the fray.

* * *

**Farfarello's words translated: **_Bard, that man's a bard! We mustn't attack him or we'll be cursed. A bard, where ... how ... how does one of his ilk still exist today? _


	11. Chapter 11

**Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it!**

**I don't own so don't sue. However if you want a puppy, I've got eight!**

**The Battle Begins**

Ailill stepped to one side and the corpses roiled from the building, attacking the living without discerning friend from foe. The air filled with the fetid smell of decaying flesh and the endless moans and screams of souls trapped in bodies that should have been returned to the earth from whence they came. The dark Elf stood there watching his minions assail the living and with a careless gesture he threw up a shield, not to protect Crawford and company, but to keep the dead from running amuck in the city.

Nagi gagged as he fought with one of the beings; it was the body of a girl that he trained with before being thrown in with Schwarz. She had been deemed to have too weak of a Gift to be of use; so she was sent off for special training to increase her usable abilities. Or at least that's what his group had been told. He quickly scanned the crowd and recognized several people that had either trained with him or were a class ahead or behind. So intent was he on seeing who and what he once knew, he didn't notice the creature coming up from behind until it struck him in the head with a pipe, knocking him down and out.

Yohji sat, frozen, behind the wheel of Seven. What played out in front of him couldn't be happening. The dead didn't return from the grave to attack the living. They just didn't, or did they? Was this the true Gift of a Necromancer?

"Yohji!" Aya shouted. "Get you head out of your ass and help me!" He drew on the power he had collected on their way and created a vortex of writhing fire. It spun among the rotting bodies turning them to ash. Yohji reacted without thinking. He hurled his Gift into the fray, joining it with Aya's.

Aya gave him a quick, feral grin and changed his fire. Instead of having to endanger all the living trapped in the circle, the fire modified itself and became sticky with tendrils that waved in the air like tentacles. Those strands reached out and pulled the walking corpses into the vortex; with every body turned to cinders the fire burned hotter and the wind blew stronger. Soon the bodies were all incinerated and the joined power came down. It turned its attention to Ailill, trying to corner the dark mage before he could call in reinforcements. He threw up a Gate and disappeared into the realm between worlds.

Crawford gathered up the two remaining members of Schwarz and cut his losses. They ran like dogs with their tails tucked tightly between their legs. They never noticed the tab that Rulan placed on Schuldig's shoulder.

Jareth sat on the cement, clutching his injured shoulder. While steel didn't affect him as badly as it would a full blood, it still did cause a lot of trouble. His vision began blurring and he could feel the particles of metal leeching into his bloodstream. If he didn't get help soon, it would be too late. His body shut down all unnecessary functions and he lost consciousness.

Aya scanned the former battlefield, looking over the mounds of ash that had once been the living dead and a small movement caught his eye. There under one of the hundreds of piles was something living. The rhythm told him that it wasn't a very big form and the redhead had a pretty good idea who it might be.

"Looks like that other team left something important behind," Aya murmured, heading toward the slight shape.

"And what would that be?" Yohji shot back.

"The boy. He's over there in the area that had the greatest concentration of… I guess you'd call them zombies." He knelt in the dust and carefully uncovered the boy. He quickly checked him over, making sure to clean out his mouth and nose so that he could breathe. "He's still alive, but his breathing's labored. We'd better get him back to the stronghold along with Gypsy and the wounded motorcyclist."

"You got it boss. I'll go get Seven and then we can hightail it out of here," Yohji responded, heading back toward the car.

"Hurry, he's starting to wheeze really badly!" Aya scooped up the slight figure and began to quickly but carefully make his way toward the convertible. He looked over at Gypsy and the other two. "Gypsy, get the injured and meet me at Yohji's car, got it?"

"Yes, sir!" Gypsy barked, giving Aya a sloppy military salute. He grinned down at Jareth and slipped under his uninjured arm. "Let's head home, 'Reth."

"You wanna know somethin'?"

"Sure, you just tell ol' Gypsy anything your little heart desires."

"You're a real pain in the ass, did you know that?"

"Nope," he answered, his legs nearly giving out as he tried to hold not only his own weight but Jareth's also.

"And you're about as done in as I am." Jareth looked over at his partner who was deep in contact with their Elvensteeds. "Hey, dumbass, get over here and help the Bard get me to safety. You can stick your head up your ass after we're secure."

Rulan stalked over to the pair and carefully pushed the musician away. "You worry about yourself, Gyps. You're about done in." He glared at Jareth. "And as for you, bite me." He slipped under the wounded man's arm and began to drag him toward the oncoming vehicle. "Hang in there, partner. Wolf'll get you back to normal lickety-split. And if he can't, Juriki can call _HIM_ in. He's done it before, right?"

"Ru, dude you're babbling. I'll make it. I'm just out of commission right now." He sighed with relief when he saw Seven approaching. "I've never been so happy to see that over-priced heap of Yohji's before." He hissed in pain as his injured side got jostled. "Damn that fucker really hurts."

Yohji threw the car into neutral without coming to a complete stop and winced as the gears ground a little. He made sure that the parking brake was on and slipped out to help the wounded into the backseat, not that there was much of that. He took Nagi from Aya and slid him into the trunk. Rulan helped Jareth into one of the jumpseats in back. Yohji ran over and help Gypsy back to his feet when his legs wouldn't hold him anymore. He grabbed up the bard and his guitar case, and then gave Aya a confuzzled look.

"What is it Yohji?" the redhead growled.

"There's no room."

"Huh?"

"There isn't room for three people plus the guitar in Seven, she's only so big."

"I can take Gypsy's guitar in Featherfoot. He's more than willing and we'll be running interference for you."

"Alright," Aya responded. "Let's move out and put this battlefield behind us." He climbed into the passenger seat of the car and watched in amazement as one of the bikes disappeared and the second one changed forms and became a swift, little sports car.

"What the fuck?" he squawked as the vehicle changed shapes.

"That's right, you've never seen an Elvensteed before," Yohji said, laughter lacing his voice.

"No."

"They are sentient beings that act as mounts for the Seleighe Court. For some reason, they can't survive in the realm of the darks; although, I've never been able to get one of them or an Elf to tell why that is. They're quite useful and can take almost any form they chose."

"Why don't you have one?"

"What makes you think I don't?"

"Two reasons."

"And they would be?"

"Number one: if you did, you wouldn't have been worried about Gypsy's guitar. The steed would have just changed forms and there'd be no crowding.

"Number two: Seven doesn't feel like those bikes did. There's no extra consciousness pushing against mine. On top of which, the steeds have a very strong aura around them that this hunk of junk doesn't. So, why don't you have one?"

"I like being able to decide where, how and when I'm going. A steed tends to be a dissenting voice and there are times that I just want to drive and not have to worry about pleasing anyone else but myself." He threw Aya a quick grin. "I'm selfish that way. And besides, the steeds are as nosy and curious as the Elves themselves. Most of them have more mischief in their little fingers than a basketful of kittens."

Aya laughed and then settled in for the drive home. Their battle had proven one thing to him. The bond between Yohji and him was getting stronger and as it did, they were becoming more of a force to be reckoned with. They had been able to somewhat easily take out that whole army of zombies, but he didn't fool himself; the next time they met the Necromancer, things would be totally different and he'd be ready for them.

"Do you think we got rid of him, permanently?" Yohji's voice broke through his thoughts.

"No, I don't," Aya answered. "And I'm not planning on things to be that easy the next time. He's going to be ready for us, so we'd better start working together on the training course. We won't get that lucky again."

"That's what I was afraid of." Yohji thought for a few seconds. "Did you notice how well we work together?"

"I've noticed it the last couple of times. I've asked Omi about it and all I've gotten for my trouble is a very knowing smile and the advice to look into it myself." He snorted his disgust. "And that's all anyone will tell me. Hell, I even went to that Juriki character and do you know what he was going to charge me to answer my questions?"

"No, what?" Yohji's voice took on a distinct edge.

"He wanted me to play with his ears. Which being the somewhat innocent I am I agreed to. That lasted until Conor slammed his fist down between the jackass' ears and Tabor told me what he was truly asking for."

"And that was?" the tone became chillier.

"To play with an Elf's ears means you're going to bed with him or her. As if I'd do anything like that. He doesn't even interest me at all. He's not anywhere as good looking as you are. He's lazy and cheap. There's no way he can even hold a candle to you in any way, shape or form." Aya's voice dropped to a mere whisper. "Besides, I don't lo….."

They pulled into the safe house and were met by Omi, Ken, Wolf and Rulan. Somehow the Elf had beaten them home. Several of the others stood there with stretchers to take the injured off. As soon as Aya and Yohji exited the vehicle, they descended like a swarm of locust and whisked the three in the back off to the hospital wing of the building.

"Yohji, Aya if the two of you have a moment, I'd like a quick debriefing and then you can you to your rooms and take a much needed rest."

Aya nodded his agreement and gently took Yohji's hand. They walked hand in hand to the debriefing room. The bond that bound their souls becoming stronger and stronger; soon it would be difficult to tell where the redhead stopped and the blonde started.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for the reviews! Here's another chapter! Hope everyone enjoys it!**

**Now for the legal stuff. I don't own Weiss, Kritiker or Schwarz, but if I did it'd be a lot hotter with Yohji and Aya barely getting out of bed! **

**A Time for Healing**

Crawford ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Somehow in the chaos that followed Ailill's appearance, Nagi got separated from the rest of the team and they left him there. For awhile Schuldig couldn't find him, but then he rejoined the meld so they knew he still breathed. However, there remained a strong possibility that he had been captured by the enemy and right now there was nothing they could do about it.

The door to their quarters opened and the twisted creature let himself back into the suite. He gave the bespectacled man a black grin with teeth that were rotting out of his head. He came over and seated himself beside the pacing American.

"Crawford and Schwarz failed," he said, releasing a fetid breath. "Master's not going to be pleased with them, that he's not. But poor Puck knows what Brad-brad needs….." He smiled at the agitated man. "Brad-brad wants to get away from the Master, but there's no escape. Puck knows this. He once thought that he could play a trick on the Master and then return to his home, but no, the Master has trapped him and keeps his soul in a jar near him." He got up and walked towards the door then turned to face the other man. "Give up all hope and be happy for the little one. He, at least, has gotten free of Master's grip. Master doesn't see him as a threat. But you, Seer he hates. You are the one person that he can't truly control," Puck laughed. He drew on the little power he was allow to access and disappeared, leaving the scent of rot and fungus that started to dissipate as soon as he vanished.

"Puck Robin," Farfarello murmured from Crawford's side. "I never thought I'd be able to meet such as he."

"Puck Robin?" Crawford asked, turning to face the Irishman.

"Aye."

"As in _A Midsummer's Night Dream_?"

"Where do you think someone like Shakespeare could come up with such a character? He must have had some interaction with the Sidhe. Probably the Seleighe court, but that's not a guarantee."

"So, what do you think our enemies will do with Nagi?"

"If I were them," Schuldig broke in from across the room. "I'd do everything in my power to steal information from him and turn Nagi from us."

"What are you sensing from the meld?"

"He's alive, but there's another presence I'm detecting. Before you ask, it's not strong enough that I can pull any information off it. But from what I'm feeling whoever it is has an incredible amount of power."

"I hope he'll be okay until we can rescue him," Crawford muttered, trying to force his Sight to work on a plan for freeing the petite member of his group.

* * *

Nagi swam slowly to the surface of consciousness. Gradually his senses returned. First was smell; the scent of herbs and disinfectant mingled in his nostrils. Then hearing; he could hear the sound of at least two men and a child talking softly nearby. His sense of taste roared awake; his mouth tasted bad, but not as bad as it should. The last sensation was sight. He could see gentle light shining pink through his eyelids. When his physical senses were all online and functioning like they should, he tried his Gift. It worked perfectly and he tried to push out at the more dangerous of the figures in the room.

His eyes flew open and he attacked the man that had been shot during the failed attempt to kill the Bard. His Telekinesis hit a solid wall. He drew back and hit it with everything he had. His second attack failed as easily as the first. He ground his teeth in frustration.

"Nagi-kun," his target said, turning toward him. "You're only going to give yourself a massive headache if you keep it up." He got up and walked toward the frightened, pissed off boy. "I know you as well as any teacher can know a student and you're not the kind that would put a child in danger just to fulfill his own agenda." He walked across the room and sat in a chair next the teenager's bed. His left arm lay in a sling and he winced as he sat down.

"How do you know me?" Nagi snapped, moving as far from the man as the twin bed would allow him. "I've never met you before."

"You really don't remember, do you?"

"No, why should I?"

"Nagi, I'm the one that taught you to use your Gift. Although, if I had known what you were…a strike that….who you were working for, I might not have been so giving in my lessons. Why Ailill?"

"That's who hired us. Well, at least Rezac did. He's about as useful as a milk bucket under a bull, that's what Crawford says."

"Well, that's true. Rezac's not good for much. But his partner in crime is very dangerous and not a very nice person."

"How would you know?"

Jareth gave him a knowing half-grin. "I know because he's my grandfather. Until my mother managed to escape his clutches, we were forced to live the life he chose for us." He shrugged his good shoulder. "She didn't have much in the way of dark magics and my Gifts he couldn't figure out how to exploit."

"Is that why he isn't afraid of most of my team?"

"Yes it is," a new voice broke in. A tall blonde man, whose features were similar to Ailill's, strode over to the bed. "Hello, there little one; how are you feeling?"

Nagi drew back from the man, his strangeness frightening the teenager. "I'm fine," he muttered. "Who are you?"

"Forgive my horrible manners," the man said, laughing. "I am known as Juriki Oberonson, king of the Shadow Court and son to the High King of the Elves."

"What do you want from me?"

"We are only here to help, little Nagi," Juriki responded, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Now, how are we going to save your family?"

"Why would you do that? We don't have any truly useful Gifts. Well, all of us except for Crawford and Ailill …" He slapped his hands over his mouth to stop the flow of words.

The other man who had been in the room when he awoke stood up and glared at the Elf. He moved over to the bed and grabbed the tall blonde by his earlobe. He then started to walk toward the door, forcing the man to either get up and follow or be dragged by his ear.

"You do know that you are tugging on the wrong part of my ear, do you not?"

"Yes, your royal horniness. However, I don't intend on bedding you, only throwing you to the wolves." He looked out the open door and saw the two men he wanted, standing at attention on either side of the opening. "Please take this out of here. I had informed everyone that there was to be no speaking to the boy until I gave my okay. Go run him around the battle room for awhile, would you?"

"Please forgive us," Tabor answered, glaring at the unrepentant man. "We didn't realize that you had requested that the boy be left alone. We'll take things from here." He reached out and grabbed his king by one arm. Conor took the other one and they headed down the hallway.

The man who had rescued him turned back to Nagi and gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that," he softly said. "I'm known as Wolf and that's Jareth. I'm the Healer here; ah you would know me more as a doctor or physician. I have my medical degree from Harvard, but along with the _Wasichu_ medicine I am also a _Pejuta Wicasa_ or medicine man in English."

"Why are you telling me this? And why can't I stop talking even when I want to?"

"Number one, I want you to feel safe here. As to the second question, I gave you some medicine that one of the side effects is that you can't stop talking. That's why I asked that no one come and start questioning you. Unlike Rezac and his crony Ailill, we don't take advantage of defenseless people."

Nagi glared at him. "Crawford's not like that either. You just don't know him! He saved my life and kept me from being used by people that wanted to exploit my Gift."

"I never said he wasn't a good man."

"But you were thinking it," Nagi snapped. "I could tell by the look on your face."

"Well," Jareth broke in. "If you lay down with dogs, you should expect some fleas."

Nagi turned toward his teacher and lashed out at him with his Gift, forming it into a thick lash and smashing it against the older man's shields. He welded the power with precision and hammered nearly the same spot over and over. The defensive barrier gave and sprung back like a rubber ball instead of shattering like the petite teenager thought it should.

"Nagi-san," an unfamiliar voice broke through his temper tantrum. He turned to attack the speaker and stopped, his breath caught in his throat. An angel stood in the doorway, his soft, blonde hair catching the light and forming a halo around his head. Big, blue, prematurely aged eyes stared at him with compassion and understanding. "There's no reason for you to attack someone for telling the truth," the young man said, his words coming from a throat that was suddenly breathless.

Nagi looked down at his hands, suddenly shy. Somehow this new teenager made him feel timid and the feeling bothered him. He looked up and fell deeper and deeper into those limpid blue pools. His breath came in short, shallow pants. He didn't understand why this was happening to him. And from the look of things, the new young man had the same problem.

Wolf smiled at the two. The bond between them grew stronger with every minute that they stood there. While it shouldn't shock him that there were two soul-bonded couples in the group; they scared him. If anything happened to one partner, the company would lose not one but two members. And the fact that they had two unstable Talents with that much power terrified him. Something big was headed down the pike and Kritiker stood right in the middle of the stream.

* * *

_**Wasichu**_ – means white man in Lakota Sioux.


	13. Chapter 13

**Here's the next chapter! Hope everyone enjoys it. Please read and review! **

**Legal stuff…..Don't own, so don't sue! All I own is 7 dogs, 8 puppies and a dozen or so cats!**

**Plans and Planners**

Pendleton Rezac held onto the file that his agents had given him. He really didn't trust Ailill enough to give him free reign all the time. He had found an operative that could hide his presence from those that were Gifted and with the dark man it seemed to work even better than with the test subjects he had tested the man's abilities against. He gave a self-satisfied smile; finally the money that he had sunk into this little project of his would start paying off.

An army of the undead; how many countries would pay to have a fighting force that didn't deplete the hardest to replace factor in any war? You could empty the cemeteries of their denizens and throw them at the enemy troops and then send in the living to clean things up. Hell, you could use fallen soldiers and just have them rise up from where they had died.

His cock was hard with the thought of how much this new talent of Ailill's would make him on the black market. Although, the countries with the most cash probably wouldn't use it. Some law of the Muslims and all that rot. He'd never bothered with any form of religion; it interfered with his cash flow. He fully understood the golden rule; he who has the gold makes the rules. If you have enough money, then you can call the shots and make the regulations. He intended to be, if not _the_ ruler of the world, then the one that pulls the strings.

"Thank you, Kirei," he murmured, closing the file. "You've been very helpful. You'll find your payment in the specified bank account and I'll be in touch when I need you again."

"Thank you, sir," Kirei responded. Rezac looked up. There was something disconcerting about the young man standing in front of him.

He had brown hair, brown eyes and a lightly tanned complexion, but other than those characteristics, his face was, well, face-shaped. There were no distinguishing marks or blemishes that set him apart from the rest of the herd. He looked as bland as vanilla ice cream and that's what had saved him more than once in his former profession as a pickpocket. Now, he made more than enough to support his lifestyle and no longer resorted to stealing to make a living. Or at least not that Rezac knew about.

"Now get out of here," Rezac said, pointing to the moveable shelving unit that covered the entryway to his escape route. "It wouldn't serve for Ailill to find you here. He might have a way to find you in a crowd and then you wouldn't be able to watch him."

"There is one thing that I didn't put in the report, just in case it fell into the wrong hands."

"And that would be?"

"The young man that Schwarz managed to wing looked almost like Ailill. There were, however, small differences."

"Such as?"

"Well, he had a tan, there were laugh lines on his face and he seemed to be protecting any civilians that stepped into the battle zone. He's whole demeanor appeared different and he cared about the man who fought beside him. They may have been lovers, but without further study, I can't make anything more than an educated guess." Kirei turned and headed for the passage. "I can tell you one thing with the utmost surety, though."

"And that would be?"

"Ailill hates him with a passion and if that's the fact then….."

"He would be the perfect pawn for controlling Ailill and his wonderful Gift." Rezac gave the man a very smug, self-satisfied smirk. "Thank you again, you've given me plenty to think on." He barely registered when his covert employee slipped away and left him with his thoughts.

For once in their decade long association, Pendleton Rezac finally had the upper hand and he loved it! He would enjoy turning the thumbscrew until Ailill's thumb burst or he cried his surrender. Then Rezac would rule the world without that bossy freak telling him what he needed to do.

He sobered as a thought flittered across his mind; the other group that had been collecting Talents for their fight against the Rezac corporation. They were so well hidden that he couldn't find any sign of them and Ailill barely registered them on his screen. The only time he even acknowledged the group was when they pulled one over on him; like stealing the child from right under his nose or killing off all his undead soldiers. At the right time, Rezac would get rid of them too and with an ease that would be breathtaking. Rezac Enterprises would be number one and he would be the emperor of the world.

"I'm king of the world!" he muttered to himself.

* * *

Yohji stood in line, waiting to join the workforce at a shell corporation of Rezac's. He, Barret, Aya and Rulan had been dragged into Omi's office, sat down and given this mission. Only the assignment hadn't come from the petite blonde. As they waited there a very, very angry looking Juriki had stormed into the room followed by his bodyguards. The only signs that something was amiss were the tight, closed-in look on the elf's face and the unconscious tightening and releasing of his fists.

"Sorry to bother the four of you, but I have a job for you," Juriki stated, his voice controlled and taut.

"What's got your panties in a wad?" Barret asked, reaching into the inner pocket of his leather biking jacket to pull out a cigarette.

"No smoking!" Omi protested.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Barret drawled, returning the pack of smokes to his pocket.

"What has got my panties in a wad? Nothing if you do not count the fact that my nephew has run afoul of Rezac's collectors and is now in a facility that we cannot just walk into; he is being experimented on right now for all we know."

"So," Aya broke into the tirade. "You want the four of us to go in and pull his ass out of the fire, right?"

"That is correct. We cannot see what is going on in that particular building due to an anomaly in Red Elves. For some unknown reason they block most forms of scrying, so there is no way for us to know exactly what is happening to him." He gave the four men a deep, respectful bow. "Please rescue him. He will be a very great asset to this organization and I would be eternally in your debt."

"Don't worry about the debt thing," Aya responded, getting to his feet. "I know what Rezac and his band of nasties can do, there's no way I'm leaving someone in his power." He looked at the other three men seated with him. "Are you guys ready to kick some ass?"

"Oh, yeah!" Barret responded, jumping to his feet. "I'm more than ready. Let's tear up the joint!"

"Alright," Omi said, coming from around the desk. "The four of you will have to use other forms of persuasion and not rely on your magics, they might draw unwanted attention. Only use them if there's no alternative, understand?"

"Omiichi," Yohji drawled. "We're not stupid and we even wear big boy pants. I think we can handle this little chore, so relax."

Omi gave him a dirty look and then reached into an open drawer. "We've designed some weapons that can be hidden in plain sight and they won't set off the metal detectors or show up under x-ray, understand?" He handed a watch and badge clip to the tall blonde.

Yohji started fiddling with the two new pieces and noticed that the cord to the holder looked strange. He pulled the string out and it wasn't the normal heavy-duty, waxed cotton or hemp used for such things. The filament caught the light and he saw a thin, sharp wire. The piece that the ID hung from felt heavy and solid. This weapon could be hidden in plain sight and no one would question him wearing it. He played with the watch and found another instrument of death. The same wire spooled out of the main casing of the timepiece. These weren't articles just for show; they would, if it came to that, kill. The death dealt by them wouldn't be from afar; no, it would be up close and personal. He shuddered at the thought.

Barret received the same holder along with the other two men, but his secondary weapons were a set of throwing knives that were hidden in sheaths, strapped to his forearms. He could trigger both without touching himself. He grinned like a fiend, the idea of attacking Rezac on his ground sending a thrill through him.

Rulan took his holder with trepidation, unwound a bit of the wire and pressed the sharp steel against his skin and gave a long, low whistle. He looked up at Juriki and raised an eyebrow. "Where the hell did you get these? Or better yet, what did it cost you … your firstborn son?"

"The man you are about to rescue saved one of the Dwarvan princes from a fate worse than death, or at least to a Dwarf," Juriki responded to the question. "So, I called in a favor in his name."

"That explains a lot," the redhead said, giving the blonde a wicked grin.

"What are you two talkin' about?" Barret broke in.

"Most Dwarves wouldn't give up their hard work without it costing the buyer literally an arm and a leg," Rulan answered. "And to create something that they've never seen, do it in a hurry and for free, there's got to be a catch. These are made of a secret alloy known as Dwarvan Steel; it's virtually indestructible. We Elves can handle it, which is more than I can say about regular steel and it's invisible to metal detectors. In other words, it's nearly the perfect weapon."

"I've got one problem that I don't think you guys thought of," Aya said, looking Omi and Juriki in the eye. "Rezac, Ailill and Schwarz have all seen Barret, Yohji and I; remember that's how I got involved with your group."

"That is why Rulan is going with you. He will be able to hide the three of you by casting a Glamourie."

"Say huh what?" Yohji questioned.

"It's how we hide our true faces," Rulan answered. "And since I'm the one doing the casting there's little that can bring our disguises down." He closed his eyes and the three men felt a brief frisson of power pass through their bodies.

Yohji looked over at Aya, his brow furrowing with confusion. "I thought you said that we'd look different. I don't see any difference."

"That's because you already know what Aya looks like and are intimately familiar with his body," Rulan remarked, giving the lanky blonde a wicked smile.

"So, how does that stop Rezac and his bastards from knowin' what we look like? They've all seen us, or at least the three amigos from Schwarz know what we look like."

"Easily, they aren't expecting us to go on the offensive and actually enter one of their buildings. They're more willing to believe that we only attack from the shadows then consider that we might sweep in and remove Juriki's nephew from their clutches." He gave Barret a sly smile. "Remember, Ailill thinks of himself as a god and totally infallible."

"Yes, his arrogance is very annoying to those of us who truly are flawless. It is very bothersome to the few of us that …." Juriki sputtered to a stop as Tabor's fist caught him in the diaphragm.

"That's enough, your high-ass," the warrior stated, stepping back into his previous position.

"No respect, I get no deference from my own bodyguards," Juriki stated, glaring at the bigger man.

"If you don't shape up," Conor broke in, "I'll inform the Lady Rhiannon that her little brother was too busy making jokes to save her son."

Juriki became very serious. "You are right," he murmured, looking down at his hands. "This is not the time to be jovial. Not while my poor defenseless nephew is suffering at the hands of those bastards. If I did not know better, I would say that Ailill has finally stooped to using blood magics. Really, that would be the only way that he could have overpowered Damon. Either that or he used a shill to get his attention." He rubbed his forefinger under his nose and then began nibbling on his thumbnail. "Yes, while he would not know that we are involved with your group, at this moment, he would have been able to recognize that Damon is part of the ruling family."

"He would?" Aya asked.

"Oh, yes. Ailill and my father are greatly acquainted. They have fought each other many times over the centuries. And while Damon is only half-blood to my father, that Unseleighe bastard would be able to feel that he is related."

"Juriki enough," Tabor broke in. "These men have enough to worry about without getting them tangled in Elven politics."

"Yes, of course." He gave the four men a weak smile. "May Danu watch over you and protect you in this endeavor."

* * *

The four of them had taken different modes of transportation to their new jobs. Aya rode the subway. Yohji took a city bus. Barret drove his beater to the building. And Rulan rode his bike. It had been agreed that having a vehicle that could shift shape and think for itself outweighed the problems if the motorcycle was discovered. Besides, the thing could disappear and reappear as needed, if it got found out.

Yohji got a mental thwack that made his head ring for a moment.

_:Pay attention, Baka,:_ Aya growled into his head.

_:Sorry,: _he responded when his ears stopped buzzing.

_:Pay attention, Yo…..:_ Aya's mindvoice ground to a halt at the sight of one of the workers who had entered the room while they were conversing.

_:Aya?: _Yohji looked at what had grabbed his lover's attention.

_:That's Aya. THAT'S Aya!:_ Aya's mind began to drag Yohji's in.

_:No, asshole,: _Barret broke in._ :You're Aya. That's some random chick.:_

_:That's my little sister,: _Aya growled, his mind churning and forming a whirlpool that dragged everything in and began ripping it apart. _:THAT'S MY LITTLE SISTER!:_


	14. Chapter 14

**Here's another chapter! Hope you enjoy it.**

**SSDD: I don't own Weiss or any of its characters. I do, however, own the original characters and a very pervert mind! **

**The Chaos Factor**

_:THAT'S MY LITTLE SISTER!: _Aya screamed into Yohji's head. The bond between them resonated with power the redhead drew from the node under their feet. If someone didn't stop him now, he'd bring the building down around them. The oaken-haired man fought through the pain, an overwhelming surge of energy had fired his Gifts before he could shunt some of it off to Rulan and Barret. He stepped up to the young lady who had caused the entire ruckus firing off in his head.

"Hey there, sweetheart," Yohji drawled in his best _'let's go to bed'_ voice.

"Please return to the line and stop trying to hit on the staff," came a rough male voice from behind them.

Aya whirled to face the speaker. The heat filling his mind flared hotter; it glowed blue-white to Yohji's Othersight and he let loose a small prayer that it couldn't be seen by anyone other than him. He looked over to Rulan, begging him with his eyes to help but the Red Elf had his eyes partially closed his lips moving and his hands sketching small signs in the air. As he did these things, the throbbing power that threatened to burn the lanky blonde alive slowly cooled enough that he could act without having to worry about his brains getting scrabbled. He nearly passed out when Aya collapsed to the floor and the pressure disappeared.

"Ah, dude," Barret said, trying to get the man's attention.

"I'll be right with you," the man responded, glaring over at the brown-haired man. "Welcome to your first day at Takatori Research Facilities. I am Reiji Takatori, CEO and former owner of your new employer. You will be put through a series of tests and skills to determine where you will be placed." He walked over to Barret and gave him a nasty glare. "What was so damned important that you tried to interrupt my welcoming speech?"

"Nothin' much," he drawled, "just thought you'd like ta know that one of your new employees just collapsed." He pointed to the supine figure near the end of the line.

"Wonderful," he snarled, looking at Yohji and Barret. "You two troublemakers can take him down to the medical wing and have him seen by one of the physicians that we have on staff. Understand?"

"Whateva you say, Dude. But there's only one slight problem we've got with that."

"And that would be?"

"Where's the medical wing?"

Reiji gave him a _'death to you' _glare and motioned the girl who had started all the trouble over. "Aya-chan," he said, placing an avuncular arm over her shoulders. "Would you please take these," he looked down his nose at the two conscious men, "people to the medical wing."

She looked up at him and when she did Yohji noticed something unusual about her skin. It had a grey cast to it, like a corpse in the early stages of death. Then he got a really good look at her face; he'd been waking up beside the masculine version of that face for the last few weeks. There was no way that his Aya could be mistaken in who this person was.

"You wanted me to remind you to take the tour a round about way today," she flatly stated. "The research staff is taking apart that new specimen and you didn't want to frighten the new hires their first day here."

"Thank you, Aya-chan. Now please show them the way."

"Yes, sir. Please follow me," she said, turning to leave.

Yohji shrugged and looked over at Barret. "Why don't you grab his legs and I'll take the top half."

"Great, leave me with the smelly part," he grumbled.

"Fine, I'll take the feet and you take the head."

"Naw, I think I'll stay down by his feet. Further from the fist end, dontcha know."

"Whatever, stop bitchin' and grab a body part."

_:Oh, can I?: _Barret shot back.

_:Don't even think about it. Rulan, it sounds like we're gonna be heading into the right area. Stick with the group and be ready to come running like hell if Aya wakes up or something else goes wrong.: _Yohji sent out in a tight burst.

_:Gotcha, be careful. I think you're heading into the belly of the beast and nothing good can come of this,:_ Rulan answered. _:Yohji, I think you're the only one who can keep Aya from going berserk. Remember, right now he needs you to be the strong one. Can you imagine how you would feel if it were your family or better yet Asuka here?:_

_:Yeah, don't remind me. The very same thought just flashed through my mind when you said that about his sister being…never mind.:_

Yohji and Barret awkwardly carried Aya's unconscious form through a series of fire doors until carrying the limp man became almost impossible. Both men carefully set their burden down and watched as their guide continued on without them.

"Hey, yo, Dudette," Barret shouted at the rapidly disappearing back. The girl came to a halt and then returned to the three.

"We must hurry," she said, flatly. "Mr. Takatori doesn't like to be kept waiting and I'm his assistant for today."

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Yohji responded, giving her one of his killer smiles. "We just need to find a better way to carry him. Is there a wheelchair or gurney that we can use?"

Aya-chan considered the question. "No, the only gurneys we have are for specimens and no one uses a wheelchair in this facility. Mr. Takatori doesn't like imperfection around him."

"Alright, honey, we'll handle it the best way we can," the lanky blonde replied, grumbling under his breath about stupid, sexy redheads. "Ba…you, help me stand him up."

"Whatever, Dude," Barret answered, his eyes flickering from Yohji to the girl and back again, seeing if she noticed the near slip.

She didn't. Her eyes kept flittering between her watch and the clipboard she carried. One small foot tapped impatiently against the tile floor until the tall blonde grabbed the unconscious man in a fireman's carry and started to head down the hallway they had been navigating.

_:Aya,:_ Yohji murmured into his lover's mind. _:Come on, Aya! We really need you right now.:_

_:Yohji?:_

_:Yeah, welcome back to the living. I'm carrying you right now, but I want you to crack your eyes and tell me what you see, understand?:_

_:Yes.:_ Yohji felt Aya's body tense as he opened his eyes and saw who was leading them.

_:Aya, stay with me, you can have a nervous breakdown when we're in a safer place,:_ Yohji barked into the redhead's mind. _:She isn't the same girl that you knew. For all we know, her memories aren't there.:_

He could feel his lover taking several deep breaths, controlling the anger that surged over the bond between them. As fast as it came on, the white-hot rage turned cold and icy. In some ways the cold burned worse than the heat, but at least Aya's emotions were somewhat under control. He struggled feebly to get down from his perch.

"You can put me down now," he growled.

"Whatever you say, ya ungrateful wret….." An explosion threw the four figures to the floor. A second detonation shook the building to the foundations and knocked ceiling tiles and florescent light fixtures to the floor.

_:Cac!: _Rulan's voice snarled into their heads. _:_ _Cad é an ifreann fuilteacha dhéanann cheapann sé sé ag déanamh!? Sé ag dul a thabhairt ar an foirgneamh ar fad síos ar fud ár chluasa!:_

_:Yeah, what he said,:_ Barret responded.

"Come on," Aya said, getting to his feet and moving toward the barrage.

"We have to head back," the girl broke in.

"As of today," Aya snapped, "I am a member of the security team for this facility. My place is with the rest of the officers, understand?"

"Yes, _Niichan_," Aya-chan answered, automatically; a deep part of her brain recognizing the sound of her older brother's voice.

Aya just ignored the deep, throbbing pain in his soul and raced down the hallway toward the approximate area of the power surges. It wasn't too hard to find, the earth-flavored magical energy drew them like the moon entices moths to dance toward its silvery light. They raced around a corner and Aya-chan's body fell to the floor like a marionette whose strings were cut.

"Thank you," she whispered as the life left her eyes

Aya gave a primal scream and collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down his cheeks. "When I get my hands on Takatori, I'll kill him myself," he snarled.

A soft pop sounded beside them, causing Yohji and Barret to jump and whirl with weapons at the ready.

"You'll have to go to hell to fulfill that request," Rulan said, from his position just out of range for their garrotes.

"What the fuck!?" Barret bellowed. "How the….where the….Dude are you tryin' ta give me a heart attack?"

"Ah, sorry," Rulan said with chagrin. "When we're a little safer, I'll explain everything."

"Yeah, you'd better."

"What can I say; it's a Red Elf thing. We've got a job to finish and not a whole lot of time to do it in. Ailill will probably recover from the Backlash here before too long and I think that it would be a very good idea to be the hell away from here."

A door opened further down the hallway and a tall, thin figure covered in blood stumbled through it. The Y-cut for an autopsy had been carved through the layers of skin, but the muscle looked like it was still intact. Blood ran down the naked form, pooling in every crease and clotting into the brick-red hair. Turquoise eyes blazed in the pale, angular face as he faced off with one of the upper echelon from the security detail.

Rulan rushed to his side and gently grabbed his wrist. _"__Tá tú sábháilte, mo prionsa. Má beidh tú ag teacht liom. Do uncail, chuir Juriki mé féin agus mo fhoireann chun tarrthála tú. Tá mé ar a dtugtar Rulan," _he said, trying to draw the fey looking man back to reality.

Sanity returned to the eyes as he faced the Elf. "Rulan?" he questioned. "I know you, or at least of you."

"Just like I know of you, little Damon or should I say cousin," Rulan gently answered. "Let's get you someplace safe, shall we." He hissed as several shards of golden metal made contact with his skin.

"I have most of the device," Damon responded to the unasked question. "I saved as much of it as I could." He sighed and then folded in on himself.

Rulan caught the injured man before he could hit the floor and then he looked back at the rest of the team. "Aya," he said, softly. "We need to leave her here. When Ailill comes, he may notice that one of his creatures is missing and reanimate her. You don't want her to suffer like that again, do you?"

"No," Aya growled. "But if we ever get in a position that I can get my hands on that bastard, he's _MINE_ understand?"

"You get first dibs, got it. Now, do you think you and Yohji can throw up a Gate to get us the hell out of here? And make it a good one; I don't want that bastard to track us." He looked over at Barret. "Dude, I'm afraid that you're 'bout to lose your wheels. We don't have time for you to go back and collect it."

"Ah, why the hell do you think that I insist on only using beaters while on this job? The future is always in motion and there's no telling when something's gonna need to be left behind." He gave the team a wicked smile and pull out a remote starter button. "I've got a little surprise in her. She comes with her own fireworks, for just such emergencies." He depressed the button and a small concussion could be felt throughout the building.

Aya and Yohji turned their attention to building the Gate. Drawing on both their power, sharing the responsibility made the task easier. Although the chaos running through Aya's mind caused the Gate power to flare and dim until he reined it in and then the energy flowed smoothly and easily.

"Go!" Aya gritted out. Barret barreled through, followed by Rulan and his burden then the bonded pair stepped into the abyss, their hands tightly clasped. As soon as they brought the gateway, Aya collapsed into the fetal position, his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed tears. Now the chaos would really begin.

_**Cac **_**–Shit **

_**Cad é an ifreann fuilteacha dhéanann cheapann sé sé ag déanamh!? Sé ag dul a thabhairt ar an foirgneamh ar fad síos ar fud ár chluasa!**_** – What the bloody hell does he think he's doing!? He's going to bring the whole building down around our ears!**

_**Tá tú sábháilte, mo prionsa. Má beidh tú ag teacht liom. Do uncail, chuir Juriki mé féin agus mo fhoireann chun tarrthála tú. Tá mé ar a dtugtar Rulan**_** –You are safe, my prince. If you will come with me. Your uncle, Juriki sent me and my team to rescue you. I am known as Rulan **


	15. Chapter 15

**Here's the next chapter. Things are starting to build, like a distant storm growing on the horizon. Soon it will break and rain down on our boys.**

**Now the legal stuff: Weiss Kreuz belongs to its creator. I just borrow the characters for some good, clean fun. **

**Storm Rising**

Crawford stood in front of Ailill, his temper barely controlled. Right now he wanted to be out looking for Nagi, not standing at attention while he got his ass chewed for something that he couldn't control. Not only didn't he See the counterattack, but he also lost one of his men. There was nothing that the freak in front of him could to say to bring him any further down. The only thing that kept him from going absolutely ape shit was Schuldig's constant reminding him that the smallest member of Schwartz still breathed and there weren't any signs of torture and abuse. As a matter of fact, the petite brunette seemed extremely happy.

"Crawford," Ailill murmured, low enough that the bespectacled man had to lean closer to understand what was being said. "Are you paying attention to what I am saying?"

"Not really," Crawford returned. "There's nothing that you can say that I haven't said myself. If you weren't so busy chewing me a new one, my team could be trying to get into their facility to rescue Nagi."

"Forget Naoe, he is dead to us. Besides, his powers are not ones that we can use. He has no true ability. Schuldig is more useful than that boy." He settled deeper in the leather office chair. "I will supply you with another member, one that has the power to defeat those that you are fighting. I have a rather personal question, Brad-Brad."

"And that would be?" he coolly responded.

"Do you like working for me?"

"Yes, of course," came the automatic answer.

"Then why did you not see the rescuers? Was it so hard to see the two groups converging on our position?"

"I don't know why I couldn't see them," Crawford answered, his brow furrowing with thought. "I didn't See anything. Hell, I couldn't even Perceive your intent to bring those…._THINGS_ into the battle."

"Perhaps you need more training. Rezac is rather lax in his abilities to train someone of your caliber. Maybe I should take over your education and teach you what true power is."

"No thanks; I've seen what your power can do. Not only did it cost me one of the strongest members of my team, but you were using people who had been rejected by Rosenkreuz." He glared at the _Monster _sitting across the colossal desk from him.

A brief flash of Sight crossed his vision. He stepped back from the black lacquer monstrosity and drew an iron horseshoe from his suit coat. Farfarello finally had an important part to play in this little farce. His knowledge of the _Sidhe_ and their weaknesses might just keep Crawford and Schuldig alive. Hell, they might even be able to defeat the bastard sitting smugly in front of him. But as blue wasn't his best color, Crawford didn't hold his breath.

Ailill hissed with rage. He gave a parody of a grin, exposing his vulpine canines. To have one of his underlings dare to stand up to him royally pissed him off. He then gave the brunette a true grin.

"You cannot stay awake forever, Brad-Brad," he sweetly said. "Unlike me, you need to sleep sometime. And when you do, I will be waiting. At that moment of weakness, things will move against you and BOOM - no more Schwarz!" He settled deeper in his chair. "You may leave us." He waved the dark-haired man off with one bone-white hand.

Crawford turned smartly on one heel and stalked to the door. The Necromancer was right, there would come a time when the team had to sleep. Even if they dozed in shifts, there would still come a time when their defenses were down and then that pointy eared bastard would attack.

"Damn!" he muttered under his breath. "How the hell do we fight against someone that can raise the dead? We don't have the abilities to wage war against something like that."

_:Schuldig,:_ he sent down the bond between them.

_:Ja wold, mein Kapitän?:_ the orange-haired man answered.

_:Where's Farfarello?:_

_:Here with me. Why?:_

_:I'm done with my meeting and there are a few things that we need to discuss. Meet me in the infinity room, immediately.:_

_:Gotcha Crawford. We'll be there.: _The telepath became quiet for a moment; his mind lost the normal, frantic energy it normally had. _:Be careful. I've got a bad feeling about things right now.:_

_:You're not the only one. I'll there in about two minutes. Don't let anyone or anything into our stronghold, got it?:_

_:Got it.:_

_:Don't worry,: _Farfarello broke in. _:I've put up some protections around the Keep to prevent the enemy from breaching it. Plus I've finagled some murder holes. This is going to be fun. Farfarello gets to fight a god and make him _VERY_ unhappy!:_ The Irishman hummed to himself, but the music wafted down the link between the three men.

1_:_ _Amhrán na bhFiann Seo dhibh a cháirde duan Óglaigh, Cathréimeach briomhar ceolmhar, Ár dtinte cnámh go buacach táid, 'S an spéir go min réaltogach Is fonnmhar faobhrach sinn chun gleo 'S go tiúnmhar glé roimh thíocht do'n ló Fé chiúnas chaomh na hoiche ar seol: Seo libh canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann. _

_:Sinne Fianna Fáil A tá fé gheall ag Éirinn, buion dár slua_

_Thar toinn do ráinig chugainn, Fé mhóid bheith saor. Sean tír ár sinsir feasta Ní fhagfar fé'n tiorán ná fé'n tráil Anocht a théam sa bhearna bhaoil, Le gean ar Ghaeil chun báis nó saoil Le guna screach fé lámhach na bpiléar Seo libh canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann. _

_:Cois bánta réidhe, ar árdaibh sléibhe, Ba bhuachach ár sinsir romhainn, Ag lámhach go tréan fé'n sár-bhrat séin Tá thuas sa ghaoith go seolta Ba dhúchas riamh d'ár gcine cháidh Gan iompáil siar ó imirt áir, 'S ag siúl mar iad i gcoinne námhad Seo libh, canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann: __.1_

_:Farfie in English,: _Schuldig groused. _:When you talk in Gaelic, it makes my head hurt.:_

Amusement flowed down the link like honey, but the music stopped. Crawford flew into their suite and headed right for the safety of the infinity room. He noticed a few changes in the rooms as he quickly swept the area for trouble. Each of the windows stood in the middle of a circle of white, crystalline substance. And iron nails were scattered about the room. The change in the air stood out; no longer did it have the taste and stench of an open grave. He took a deep breath as he continued on.

"Took you long enough," the orange-haired man drawled as his bespectacled leader came into view.

"Forgive me," Crawford snapped. "I was rather detained by Rezac's goon. Watch over me. I'm going to try and contact the other group."

"Do you think that this is wise?" Schuldig asked. "What makes you think they're going to help us?"

"Simply, they haven't killed Nagi and they've helped us before." He glared at the telepath over the top of his glasses. "Do we really have a chioce?"

"Nein. Do what you think is right. Farfarello and I will stand beside you. At least until the first time you truly fuck up and then we're gone, got it?"

"Understood; now keep guard and if I look like I'm in trouble, come in and rescue me."

"Ja wold!"

Crawford went into himself and then out. He reached out with his mind and felt for the familiar touch of his teacher's mind.

_He found himself walking down a garden path. The air was humid and the scent of flowers hung heavily air. He could recognize the fragrance of lilac, roses, irises and honeysuckle and the deeper he traveled on the path, the richer the scents became to the point where they were almost tastes instead of smells. He broke through the green twilight of the path and stepped into a sun lit clearing. Sitting on a comfortable looking bench was someone with silvery-white hair that flowed several feet from the seat. The figure ran a brush through the thick, shining locks._

"_Welcome Bradley," Sybel said, turning to face his student. His blind eyes looked in the other man's direction._

"_Sybel," Crawford answered. "Why am I not surprised that you knew I was coming."_

"_We both know that I didn't know you were coming, I Saw your visit."_

"_Yes, I've got a few questions for you. Are you willing to answer them?"_

"_Of course; and don't worry, I'll wait for you to ask them before I answer them."_

"_How's Nagi doing?" Crawford asked, coming to sit behind him. He reached out and gently stroked the soft, sweet-smelling tresses._

"_He's fine. There have been a few changes in him and he's not too keen on returning to Ailill and Rezac."_

"_Understood, now for the harder questions."_

"_Ask and ye shall receive."_

"_Wiseass," Crawford snapped at him. "Why didn't I See the other teams when we attacked the Bard?"_

"_Crawford, you have to understand something," Sybel responded, his face becoming serious. "Anything that can be Cast, can be broken. Even among the Elves they know this truth. The only ones who don't seem to understand that are the beings running that company. You saw how easily my two friends took down all of Ailill's work, didn't you?"_

"_Yes, but how can we fight him if my Seeing is blocked?"_

"_Don't rest so much on your Gifts," Sybel answered. "Ailill thinks that dark is so much stronger than the light, but do you see how fast the darkness flees from a single spark of light? The only thing that the black arts have going for them is they allow the person using them a great deal of power, for a short time. But the cost to use that kind of magic is so immense that it negates the positives totally." He reached out and took Crawford's hand in his. The brunette felt a shiver as they entwined their fingers. "Let's give you a little more training, shall we?"_

"_Ah, yes," he responded, allowing his mind to interlace with Sybel's. _

* * *

Nagi watched as Omi shuffled through an immense pile of papers. Somehow, even though the group was virtually paperless, the pile kept growing. The petite blonde scowled at the mountain of work that lay before him. He looked up and smile at the younger boy.

"How are you settling in?" Omi asked.

"Fine, I guess. I didn't realize how much I really didn't know about my Gift. I still have a great deal to learn, but Jareth is a very good teacher and he explains things meticulously." He gave the blonde a soft, half-grin and stared deeply into his eyes.

Omi returned the smile and the look. He hadn't been too happy about the Soulbond when he first discovered it. It wasn't that he disliked the little brunette, but the thought of anyone, even a god, telling him who he could love really pissed him off. But now he realized that they were a perfect match.

Nagi had that cold-blooded ruthlessness that Omi lacked and he had the ability to see the whole picture that the dark-haired boy didn't. In other words, they completed each other. Now he understood how Yohji and Aya managed to make their relationship not only work, but prosper.

He leaned over and brushed his lips against Nagi's. The kiss was sweet and subtle. The petite brunette returned the kiss with a vengeance. He mashed his lips against the blonde's and when he opened his mouth to gasp, Nagi swept the inside with his tongue. Omi moaned deep in his throat. His tongue joined the party and the kisses became more and more demanding. The heat between them ignited and somehow the little blonde found himself with a lapful of brunette.

"Ah hum," Ken cleared his throat from the doorway. "It's time for lunch you two. And next time, get a room!" The chocolate-haired man stormed away.

"Oh, shit," Omi muttered under his breath.

"To quote Yohji, _'Who peed in his Cheerios?'_"

Omi looked at his love and burst out laughing. It looked like things were going to get interesting.

* * *

**This is the song Farfie was singing. It's the Irish national anthem.**

1The Soldier's Song We'll sing a song, a soldier's song, With cheering rousing chorus, As round our blazing fires we throng, The starry heavens o'er us; Impatient for the coming fight, And as we wait the morning's light, Here in the silence of the night, We'll chant a soldier's song.

Soldiers are we whose lives are pledged to Ireland; Some have come from a land beyond the wave. Sworn to be free, No more our ancient sire land Shall shelter the despot or the slave. Tonight we man the gap of danger In Erin's cause, come woe or weal 'Mid cannons' roar and rifles peal, We'll chant a soldier's song.

In valley green, on towering crag, Our fathers fought before us, And conquered 'neath the same old flag That's proudly floating o'er us. We're children of a fighting race, That never yet has known disgrace, And as we march, the foe to face, We'll chant a soldier's song.


	16. Chapter 16

**Here's the next chapter in the continuing saga of Weiss. Please be warned there is yaoi to be had in this here chapter so if you don't like it, don't read it.**

**And as always, I don't own Weiss or any of the characters. But if I did, life would be much more lemony.**

**A Brief Interlude of Peace**

Nagi watched as Omi played with the children the group had either rescued or birthed. His lover patiently showed one little boy how to wind up a balsam wood, rubber band-powered airplane. Both of them laughed as the small flying piece of wood skimmed the top of one girl's head. She shrieked in frustration as the plane flew off. Nagi decided to help the situation; he used a slight bit of his Gift to lift the toy higher. Then the plaything began to do loop-de-loops and barrel rolls to the amusement of the children. Their cries and laughter brought a smile to his lips, but the thing that warmed his heart was the giant smile on Omi's face as he realized what his lover and friend did.

The petite brunette felt the air change as someone walked up behind him and stood within the area that he considered his personal space. He whirled around and standing there was the Elven Prince. Juriki gave him a wicked grin and reach out to touch him. Nagi really didn't like people touching him, unless that person happened to be a tiny blonde with big, blue, soul-catching eyes.

"Can I help you?" he murmured, stepping just out of the Elf's reach.

"I have been wondering how you have managed to make it this far," Juriki said, creating a chair out of thin air. "Not only are you the most powerful Telekinetic I have ever seen, but you also have a rogue Gift; did you know that?"

The petite brunette gave the tall, elegant blonde a serious look. He stared at the Elf, trying to figure out the man's plans. No one did anything for free and the Elves were no different than most humans. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Very simply, the Gift that Sybel has Seen in you is one that is not normally found in either Human or Elf," he responded, looking the young man right in the eye. "There is the ability to turn back time and to bring back the newly demised. Although, you would have to do it with in the first three days or else the soul would be lost. Unless you are Ailill, that is."

"And how is that any different than that bastard?" he growled, finding himself drawn into the conversation.

"That bastard, as you call him, Binds the person's soul to its dead body by force. What you are capable of doing is bringing body and soul back together into true life. However, it would be advisable to have a Healer present when you do such a thing. If the person has a fatal wound and you bring them back, you will have to repeat the process unless you have someone who can knit the body back together again." He canted his head to one side. "And if it is a very bad injury, you might need someone like my nephew."

"How is he any different than Wolf?"

"Wolf is an herbalist and a Healer. Damon is a Healer Adept, which means that he can tap into the ponds and rivers of power which reside beneath our feet. Wolf can only use the power that he can gather before he starts a Healing. My nephew can draw on a more potent form of energy and if he has someone feeding him energy, he can Heal almost anything." He gave the petite brunette a wicked smile. "He is wonderful and talented, just like his uncle."

"Ug," Nagi groaned and started to step away from the Elf.

"Nagi, if you do not feel comfortable with me teaching you then I would suggest Seáin or Damon. Seáin was my first teacher and Damon has a capacity for patience that I do not. Think about it and if you decided to choose one of them, let me know and I will make arrangements for you to be taught."

"Okay, thanks," he murmured, catching sight of Sybel and Kavin walking into the chaotic room.

Juriki moved close enough that he could whisper in the petite brunette's ear. "And if you would like lessons in the ancient art of love-making, I will be more than willing to take you on as a student." He danced quickly away as Nagi reached out with his power to flatten him. His laughter filled the air and then he was gone.

Nagi growled and turned his attention back to the children, Omi and the Seer. Something about Sybel bothered the Telekinetic. His skin was even paler than usual except across the cheekbones where brilliant red stained his cheeks. He leaned heavily on Kavin and the deep furrows in the big man's face didn't encourage optimism.

Sybel staggered and then collapsed onto the floor, his body slipping between Kavin's hands to land in a boneless heap on the cold, tile flooring. The bodyguard gave a heartfelt groan of fear. Something wasn't right and now their Seer had been affected.

* * *

Yohji stood in front of Aya's door for the third day in a row. The bond between them allowed him to feel the pain and deep bruising on his lover's soul. Seeing his sister in that condition had brought Aya to a very delicate balancing act. His mind and spirit wobbled on the very edge of insanity. Frustrated anger warred with the guilt of not realizing that his sister's body was in the hands of that bastard, Ailill. Yohji almost pitied the dark Elf … almost. If he hadn't seen what the creature truly could do, he might have considered his sympathy well placed. But the black-haired Elf brought this on himself. When Aya got his hands on that shit turd, there wouldn't be enough left to bury. And the leggy blonde had every intention of being right there and helping.

"Aya, baby," he begged. "Please open the door. I'm really worried about you." He rattled the dishes on the tray he carried. "You need to eat. If you don't, you won't have the strength to fight Ailill when the time comes, understand?"

The door cracked open and Yohji got is first glimpse of Aya in over four days. The once neat and clean auburn tresses hung in a limp, greasy, tangled mass. The fragrance of body odor almost knocked him over and dull, lifeless lavender eyes stared at him from a face that had melted away. Aya's face looked like skin stretched over a skull, with no muscle underneath. In a word, he looked like hell.

"C'mon in," Aya slurred a wave of alcohol fumes crashed over Yohji, nearly causing him to pass out.

"Ye gods, Aya, you reek!"

"Yeah, I love you too."

"When was the last time you had a shower?"

"What day is it?"

"Saturday," Yohji answered.

"Oh, it's been that long, huh?" Aya slurred, swaying slightly.

"Aya," Yohji scolded. "What do you think you're doing?" He looked around the room and saw a line of black and white labeled bottles, almost a dozen as a matter of fact. He pushed his way past the wobbling figure into the space.

Things were mostly tidy, but he had a strong feeling that usually this room was spotless. "A place for everything and everything in its place," Yohji muttered under his breath.

"'Scuse me," Aya slurred.

"You heard me." He turned and glared at the redhead. "Are we done wallowing in self-pity? Or do you intend on killing yourself with drink and lack of food." He glared at the smaller man. "If that's the case, shall I just finish what Ailill started?"

"You have no idea what I've been through!" Aya growled at him. "I watched my sister die twice, Yohji! TWICE! How could you understand anything? You have no idea what it's like to watch someone you love die, not once but twice!"

"I don't know what it's like losing someone you love twice, but I do know what it's like to lose a loved one. You're not the only person who has lost someone to that bastard. Why do you think I joined Kritiker? I signed up for this as a way to stop what those fuckheads. Well, that and to truly train my Gift."

Aya looked at him, his eyes becoming clearer. "Can you keep the food warm?" he asked, stumbling toward the bathroom.

"Yeah, no problem; give me a sec and I'll join you."

"Yohji, I don't think I'm up to anything right now."

"Dumbass, I've got no intention on molesting you. I'm just afraid that you'll fall in the shower and then we'd have to call Wolf or Damon and they'd see your sexy hotness and then I'd never get you back," he said, giving the redhead a smoldering look. "Or worse…."

"What could be worse than that?"

"Juriki could come up to rescue you and then I'd _really _never get you back!"

"Jackass," Aya muttered. "Come on, if you're coming."

"Well, not yet, but if you stroke me hard enough."

"Hentai!"

Yohji laughed and cast a quick warming spell over the food and headed into the bathroom. By the time he reached the door Aya had started the water in the sunken, garden tub and stepped into the shower. The leggy blonde thanked his lucky stars that the group had installed tankless water heaters, so the water would stay hot even with the extra draw of both tub and shower going full-blast.

He slowly opened the door to the shower and his breath caught. After five days of celibacy, the sight of Aya's marble-white skin, slightly tinted pink from the heat, brought his cock to an instant hardness and he moaned deep in his throat. He wriggled out of his clothing, stepped into the steaming stall and began rubbing against the cherry-haired man like a cat in heat.

"Yohji, loverling, let me get cleaned up and then we will do anything you desire, m'kay?" Aya growled his deep voice hoarse from arousal.

Yohji's knees went weak at the husky growl and he had to lean against the tiled walls to stay upright. "Yeah, Aya baby, whatever you want."

"I want a lot of things, but right now the only things I can get are clean and your luscious body; which in my opinion isn't the booby prize by a long shot." He picked up the shampoo and squeezed a handful into his palm, brought it up to his hair and began working it in.

Yohji batted his hands away and began to sensuously work the stuff into the flame-red locks. Once the tresses had been rinsed and the process repeated, the oaken-haired man worked in the conditioner and then began scrubbing his lover from head to toe. The soap Aya used smelled like him: sandalwood with a hint of jasmine and roses. He knew that he'd be able to find the redhead in a crowded space just by scent alone.

Aya grabbed up a body puff and began reciprocating the treatment, arousing both of them even further. Time slowed and seemed to stop until they both were clean. They stepped out of the stall and Aya gave his lover a wicked smile. He reached out with his mind and flicked the light switch off, leaving the pair in near total darkness. And then he breathed from between pursed lips and the myriad of candles he had scattered about the room flickered to life.

He walked over to the tub, pour some bath oil into it, releasing a cloud of exotic perfume and then slipped into the steaming water. "Are you coming, Yohji?" he asked, giving the tall blonde a steaming glance from the corner of his almond-shaped eyes.

"Ah, yeah," Yohji squeaked, like a scared virgin.

The tub was more than big enough for the two of them, but as he glided into the water his hips were grasped and he ended up sitting between Aya's legs. The redhead's throbbing, hard cock pushed against his back and he couldn't resist the temptation to rub his ass against that instrument of pleasure. A low rumble caused his blood to heat up more. Long, marble white arms came around to encircle him and long-fingered hands scooped up water. The warm, scented fluid ran down Yohji's golden flesh, leaving a thin, oily sheen to the skin. He gasped as Aya's hands dipped below the waterline.

Aya chuckled deep in his throat. He grabbed ahold of his lover's golden shaft and began to fondle it with long, languid strokes. He bit where the column of his neck joined the shoulder, dragging a passionate moan out of the golden god resting between his legs. Slim hips bucked and writhed against his turgid member. Aya grabbed them, hard enough to leave bruises. Once again he found himself marking his territory.

"Aya quit teasing!" Yohji groaned, twisting around to steal a kiss.

"You want something, hm?" he growled, turning the leggy blonde back around. "What are you?"

"I don't know! What am I?"

"Can you say, 'I'm a dirty bitch'? Hm, can you?" Aya began jerking harder on Yohji's throbbing cock. He loved the feel of that strong, capable body writhing and grinding against his. He pushed the oaken-haired man forward and rose gracefully out of the tub.

Yohji keened his disappointment as his warm, hard backrest left. He turned and faced the redhead. "Aya," he whined. "Where do you think you're goin'?"

"I'm not going to fuck you in the tub. There's not enough room and I don't want to risk you drowning." He started walking into his bedroom. He reached the doorway and turned back to look as the confused blonde. "You coming?"

"Not yet," Yohji muttered under his breath, "that's the problem." He levered himself out of the scented water and stalked out of the room, pushing past the smaller figure of his lover.

His damp hair was grabbed and he found himself plastered against the wall just outside the bathroom. Thin, strong hands roamed all over his body, pinching and marking their path. Aya's lips crushed against his and Yohji found his legs becoming weak and unable to hold him. The only thing that prevented him from hitting the floor was Aya's strong, solid leg shoved between his own. He moaned and rubbed his groin shamelessly against the smooth flesh supporting him. He needed the friction, his body craving more and more.

The brutal kiss ended, leaving him to mew his frustrated need. Before he could whimper more than once, he found himself flying through the air. A brief moment of panic caused him to stiffen up and then he relaxed as his body landed with a soft plop onto the deep, fluffy mattress on Aya's bed. His lover's body slammed into his and his lips, jaw and neck were covered in hot, moist, vicious kisses and hard, marking bites.

"Aya," Yohji moaned, spreading his legs so that his lover could lie between them.

Aya snarled and rubbed their groins together, stoking the fire higher and higher. He latched on to the golden column of the leggy blonde's neck and began to suck, bite and lick to mar that beautiful, sun-kissed flesh. His self-loathing and hatred shoved deep down, away from his thoughts. For the first time in days he could let his thoughts go and just feel. Oh, god the heat and passion threatened to overwhelm him and he just let it happen.

He slithered down that long, lean body to Yohji's flawless feet. He looked up and began sucking on those gorgeous big toes, causing his lover's leg to jerk. He nibbled up to inside of his ankle and began licking and sucking on it. A wave of heat ran up Yohji's leg and straight to his groin. A moaning gasp escaped from his lips and he thrust his body up, trying to draw his redhead up to quench the fire raging in him.

Aya smiled as he repeated the action on the other leg. His lips traveled up the blonde's mile-long leg and he sucked and licked the small divot on the back of his knee before kissing up the rest of the way. He sucked and nibbled on the right side of Yohji's ball sack, dragged his tongue over the crease where his leg met his body and then repeated the process with the other one. He kissed the protruding hip bones and then licked his way up the golden love path to his bellybutton. Aya's tongue dipped into the beautiful well and Yohji wriggled with both discomfort and laughter.

"Aya, that tickles," he half moaned, half laughed. He threw his head back as that marble-pale flesh slid between his legs and their groins ground together. He felt cool, slick fingers touching his secret hole and two were thrust in at once. Fortunately his body had been waiting for this intrusion, so he only felt a mild sting. A third finger joined the party for a few seconds and then Aya shoved his throbbing member deep into Yohji's body.

The teasing that started in the bathroom had brought the leggy blonde almost to the edge and the feel of that lovely body pounding into his drove him over the precipice. His body shuddered with his release and he clamped down hard on Aya's cock.

Aya held still until Yohji finished coming and when his orgasm stopped, the cherry-haired man continued thrusting in. He lasted five more minutes before his fulfillment. For the longest time all he could see was white and then sensations returned. With his defenses down he couldn't stop the tears from coming and for the first time in four days, he cried. Great, racking sobs shook his body and he cried himself to sleep in his lover's arms.

Yohji held the crying man until he collapsed into slumber. When he was sure that Aya had drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, he let loose a heavy sigh. The feeling of insane, barely controlled anger had disappeared from his mind. Now he knew that the redhead would be okay and that, while the sorrow still remained, he could function again. Heaven help Ailill when Aya gets a hold of him. There wouldn't be enough left to bury.


	17. Chapter 17

**Here's the next chapter! There's smut in this here chapter so if you don't like it, don't read it!**

**As always, I don't own Weiss or Schwarz. So, don't sue!**

**Reaching a Peak**

Crawford sat with one arm stretched over the back of the huge, masculine sofa in Rezac's office, a clove cigarette dangling carelessly from his long, graceful fingers. He took a slow, sensual drag on the smoldering weed and released the tobacco and spice laden smoke into the air. Schuldig lounged on the arm of the couch closest to his leader and Farfarello stood 'at ease' on the other side as they waited for the small man to finish his phone conversation.

_:Mein Kapitän,: _Schuldig quietly said into his mind. _:Das wenig allemein.:_

_:English, Schu,:_ he responded, taking another long drag on the cig. _:English, you're giving me a headache.: _

_:The little general.:_

_:He does rather have a napoleon complex. And that's what I want you to turn to our advantage. Understand, Mastermind?:_

_:Ja wold, mein Kapitän!:_ Schuldig sent down their bond, his mind trembling with excitement.

_:The bees, Schuldig, don't forget the bees. Verstehen?:_

_:Verstehen.:_

Crawford took another long dragon the cigarette and allowed the smoke to roll in his lungs before releasing it into the air. He waited patiently for the petite man to get off the phone.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Rezac said as he placed the handset back into its cradle. "What can I do for you?"

"It's not what you can do for us, Mr. Rezac; it's what we can do for you," Crawford drawled lazily.

"And what do you mean by that?" Rezac countered, coming over to the lounging brunette.

"Easily," Crawford answered, moving over for the petite man. "Ailill is using you. He doesn't train the Gifted people in your control the right way. As a matter of fact if I had continued the way I was trained, I more than likely would've ended in a pine box before the year was out."

_:You know what he's saying is the truth,:_ Schuldig whispered into the small man's mind. _:You've seen it with your own eyes, the walking dead. He never told you that he could control the dead. What else is he hiding?:_

"I understand, Mr. Crawford, but what can we do about it?"

"Well, we can't allow him to realize what we're planning, but with your permission, we'll get to know the group we're fighting against." He held up his hand to forestall any comments. "I don't want to give you too much information as it could be stripped from your mind without you even knowing it. The less you know the safer you'll be."

"And how do I know that you're not going to betray me too?" he growled.

_:You know that they have everything to lose by going against Ailill.:_ Schuldig seductively murmured into his mind. _:They've never done anything to deceive you and only have worked for your betterment.:_

Rezac's eyes glazed over and he slipped into a hypnotic state, his mind going to sleep. "Gentle, Schuldig," Crawford murmured, standing up slowly. "Just take out the information from this visit. I don't want Ailill being able to pull any of this from his mind."

"Of course, mein Herr." The flame-haired man gave Crawford a wide, wild grin. "Finally I get to have some fun."

"Bee, Schuldig. Remember the bees," came the quiet response as the dark-haired American walked out of the room, leaving him with their employer.

* * *

Yohji lay in the deep, green grass of the upper plains in America. It was deemed important that Aya and he have a slight vacation; giving the soul-damaged redhead time to heal. They had walked through a Gate set up by Jareth onto the Rosebud Sioux Tribe Reservation. As a matter of fact they were about four hours on the backside of nowhere. The road leading to the cabin they were staying in was nothing more that two parallel dirt tracks in the grass of the prairie. The lack of sound made the blonde a little leery, but Aya blossomed. His mind lost the desperate, clinging feeling and he no longer felt like a ship on a storm tossed sea. That was one of the best parts, that and the mind-blowing sex they'd had since coming. There wasn't much to do; the cabin didn't have electricity or running water, so no TV, radio or computer. There were only so many books Yohji could read and the magazines he'd brought with him were long since read. He had found a new hobby though: Aya watching.

Right now the healing cherry-haired man was running through his kata with Shion. His shirt had been removed a few movements ago, the hundred-plus temperatures responsible for the baring of that gorgeous upper body. Yohji moaned softly at the sight of lithe muscles gliding smoothly under that creamy, white skin. The only things marring that surface were the love bites from their voracious fucking. Yohji swallowed hard and turned his attention back to the manila envelope that had magically appeared on their table this morning.

He shuffled through the information on their greatest enemy, Ailill. Some of the stuff in the pile of papers made him more than a little nervous. How the hell could they stop a Necromancer who was thousands of years old? With his concentration focused on the data he didn't notice the shadow standing over him until it was too late.

Aya's body landed on his, forcing him back into the soft, green grass. Papers scattered everywhere and his lips were roughly claimed. The bare chest he had been drooling over a few moments ago pressed against his and that slim-hipped body lay between his legs.

"Aya, Aya!" he squawked, pushing at his lover to get him off him. "Not now, I'm busy."

"Too busy for this?" the redhead asked him as he started nibbling on the spot just below one ear.

"Yeah. The papers we received today are from Ian and some of the Elves. They've sent us everything they have on Ailill. Did you know that he's also known as Azrael? That's the name of the angel of death."

"Makes sense," Aya responded, rolling off him to lie next to him in the grass.

"But how can we fight a fucking angel?"

"There's nothing saying he is a true angel, is there?" He rolled onto one elbow, waiting for Yohji's reply. At the shake of the golden head, he smiled. "We're not fighting some supernatural being. He's not a demigod or a true angel. He's only Elven and even if he were a fallen angel, like all Elves love to think they are, he's still fallible and I've always believed that the fallen ones are easier to dispel." He smiled at the doubt on his lover's face. He leaned over and kissed those plump, rosy, sweet-tasting lips.

"Aya, what about…" His words were stopped by a soft, passionate kiss.

"Together we can stop him. Just promise me that you'll never leave me."

"As long as you make the same promise, Red!"

Aya looked him in the eyes, his face gone serious. "Yohji Kudou, I promise that I will never leave or forsake you. My heart is yours as yours is mind. Our souls are forever bound and will be parted only when this world comes to the end and maybe not even then. I love you and am willing to live for you." He smiled at the confusion in the blonde's eyes. "It's harder to live for someone than to die for them and I would do both for you!"

"Aya," he breathed, reaching up a hand to stroke that fiery hair.

Aya brought his mouth down and kissed along the bottom of his crop top, interspersing the kisses with licks and nibbles. He stopped at Yohji's natal dimple and dipped his tongue deep into the sweet well. His lips followed the line of hairs leading into his pants; he carefully unbuttoned the skin-tight jeans with his teeth and then set to work on the zipper. As the metal teeth parted, more and more of that luscious, golden flesh was revealed and every inch of it he covered in kisses. Yohji's glorious cock sprang free of its confines and Aya licked the organ from root to tip, reveling in the low, breathy moans coming from his lover.

"Oh look," he murmured in his bedroom voice. "A surprise in the package; I love it."

Yohji moaned at the sound of those low, sensual tones. Aya's voice sent shivers up his spine and shut his brain down. He barely registered the fact that the redhead was sliding his jeans off leaving the bottom half of his body bare to the sun and gentle breeze.

Aya slowly climbed up that golden form, allowing their bodies to touch as much as possible. His hands slid up under that skin-tight muscle tee and he grabbed it. Unhurriedly he began tearing the cloth, letting the moment direct his actions. He rubbed their groins together, his still clad in the rough, denim fabric and stopped to attack Yohji's pert little nubs. He loved how vocal the blonde was during their lovemaking sessions. It never ceased to amaze him how many different sounds one man could make. Yohji was a finely tuned instrument and Aya knew how to play him.

Aya pulled away, stood up and began slowly stripping off his jeans and sandals. He stood for just a moment allowing Yohji to admire his pale beauty. Then he knelt down between the golden god's leg and began worshiping at the altar of his body.

He carefully took the long, throbbing length of his cock deep into the cavern of his mouth, his tongue and lips caressing, stroking and driving the leggy blonde to distraction. His nimble mouth brought him almost to the top of the peak and then he drew away. Yohji groaned his frustration and reached for the man who had filled his life, both body and soul.

Aya reached for Yohji's jeans, knowing that the man had started carrying lube every time Aya came out to run through his sword dances. He found the small tube and slathered a generous amount onto his quivering manhood. He grabbed his lover's slim hips and thrust in to the hilt. He just didn't have the patience to stretch the man and they had just crawled out of bed a few hours ago, so the oaken-haired man should still be a little loose. Besides, Yohji liked it rough every once in a while.

He changed angles and rhythm, driving the both of them to edge of sanity. He might be playing rough, but he intended for both of them to have mind-blowing orgasms. Yohji's back came off the grass and he screamed in passion as Aya brutally hit his sweet spot. Aya thrust in, trying his damnedest to hit that area again.

After three well-timed and placed hits on _THAT_ spot, Yohji came hard. The world went white and he lost consciousness for a few minutes. His senses returned just as Aya reached his peak and came in him, collapsing onto his partner. Fire blended with wind, melding their minds even closer and leaving them joined, not just by body but also by soul.

Ailill better watch the fuck out, a dragon of wind and fire was on the hunt and it intended to destroy the darkness. In other words, when they get a hold of him, he's toast!


	18. Chapter 18

**Here's the next chapter. I hope y'all really enjoy it.**

**As always, I don't own Weiss, Kritiker or Schwarz, so don't sue. If you want I've got eight puppies and four kittens that are looking for a home…. **

**Bad Medicine**

Yohji clung to the branch of a tree above the clearing where Omi had made arrangements to meet with Nagi's team. The park of the assignation contained oaks, maples and other hardwoods that were over a century old and the team made good use of the cover nature provided. The tall blonde nervously pulled on the knob of his watch, making sure the wire was loose and ready to be used in a split second.

_:Yohji, calm down,: _Aya's voice soothed him in his head. _:They're here to talk and we're prepared for anything that they might try. Not only that, but Nagi's here and he won't let anything happen to Omi. That's our ace in the hole.:_

_:I know, but I'm just really nervous. That orange-haired man, he's unpredictable and the one with the eye patch can't feel pain. How the hell is little Nagsters supposed to stop three men?:_

_:That's what we're here for. There are a hell of a lot more of us than of them.:_

_:And what if they decide to bring Ailill? That bastard can call up the dead and how the hell do you kill something that's already dead?:_

_:The same way we did the last time. We burn them into ashes and send them straight to heaven or hell.: _

_:I hate it when you're right,: _Yohji sighed. _:It's even more frustrating than waiting for the bad guys to show up.:_

_:And who says we're bad guys, eh Kätzchen?:_ an unfamiliar mind voice screamed over theirs. _:If you ask anyone they'll tell you that we're sweet and gentle as baby lambs and would never hurt a fly.:_

_:That's a little clichéd,:_ Aya murmured.

"Schuldig get away from the kittens," Crawford ordered, sauntering into the clearing. "Nagi, have you been well?"

"Faring well enough," he responded, clutching Omi's hand a little tighter in his. "And how have things been going for you?"

"Fine, never better." The tall American raised an eyebrow at the two boys standing in front of him. "I thought I asked to speak to the leader of this fine little band. But no, they send me a child and expect me to believe that he's the head honcho."

"That's because, Mr. Crawford, I am. They call me Persia and I head the Kritiker office here. I am also the leader of the Special Forces unit; assembled to fight against Pendleton Rezac and Ailill." Omi drew himself up to his full height (which would have been more effective if he were a few inches taller.) and stared down the bespectacled man. "Now, how can we help you? You are the ones that call this little tête-à-tête."

"I was given the idea that you might be willing to help defeat Ailill, if we were working on the inside to help," Crawford drawled, pulling out a clove cigarette and lighting it.

"And what will we gain from this merger?"

"Ailill will be dead and Rezac has offered to call off his dogs. Or at least he won't collect any more Gifted persons. Sounds like a winning deal to me."

Schuldig crept closer to the tree Yohji had hidden himself in. The leggy blonde pulled out a good stretch of wire from his watch and prepared to fight the orange-haired man. The German's light footsteps barely stirred the fallen leaves below the tree and his Cheshire cat grin didn't leave a feeling of confidence in the tall blonde.

An arrow passed close enough to Crawford that the fletching scrapped his cheek and made it bleed. The head of the projectile plunged into the shoulder of Schuldig's jacket, skimming the surface of the German's skin and leaving a thin cut in the golden skin. The orange-haired man spun around and tumbled to the ground.

A tall blonde with an eye patch over his left eye, stepped out from behind one of the tall hardwoods; his bow drawn and another arrow in the firing position. His clothing caused Crawford to raise an eyebrow. Snug-fitting, leather jeans that were distressed and blotched with different shades of brown and grey. On top he wore a hoodie with fluttery, leaf-like pieces of material in various hues of green and brown. If he were in a tree it would be almost impossible to see him from the ground.

"_Ar ais amach, Jack! Má tá tú bpreabfaidh fiú mícheart, beidh mé a chur saighead trí do chroí,"__[1]_ he growled, glaring at the German.

Farfarello stepped between the angry archer and his teammates. He bowed very low and floridly (in the European style) and kept his eyes respectfully down. "_Leanaí de Danu, chiallaigh sé aon chion,"__[2]_the white-haired man said, giving the stranger another bow. _"Le do thoil aon rud a dhéanamh go mbeidh tú brón níos déanaí."_

"_Chun do eagna, Leanaí de __Éire__, beidh mé Bow,"__[3]_ the archer responded, returning his bowstring to its relaxed position and the arrow to the quiver on his hip.

A tall redhead stepped from behind the same tree the blonde had appeared from and motion to the attacker. "_Aerrows, fhágáil dó féin agus a fháil ar ais i do sheasamh,"__[4]_ he snapped coming over to the injured American and running a gentle finger over the wound.

Crawford shivered as warmth flowed through his body, leaving him feeling refreshed and alert.

"Please forgive Aerrows, Mr. Crawford," the redhead said. "He's young, impulsive and arrow-happy. I would say trigger happy, but he finds firearms to be clumsy, smelly and noisy. Your man was threatening some of our people though."

"And you would be?" Crawford drawled, trying to figure out the angle of the man standing next to him.

"Forgive me, I'm Damon; one of the physicians that work with Kritiker and Persia. Does your face feel better?"

Crawford's strong, lean, elegant fingers brushed over the area where he'd been injured. Dried blood crumbled under his questing digits, but the skin underneath was whole and unmarred. His eyes widened as his brain processed what had happened. "Yes, thank you," he murmured. "Do you think you could see to the overly loud man over there also?"

"Of course, it would be my pleasure." Damon moved over to Schuldig and repeated the procedure on him.

Yohji settled back into his position, breathing a sigh of relief. He didn't know if he would've been able to hold the poorly-trained, powerful man off, even though he was telegraphing every one of his moves. A faint ripple in the shields brought his attention to full alert. His eyes began scanning the ground and trees for any sign of the intruder.

Just below Aya's tree he found it. A gnarled old man about the size of a toddler, with a rusty red cap, like a mushroom's, peered around the trunk. It was trying to inch closer to the group and even from his location the leggy blonde could smell blood. He tossed out his wire and this one he had had the Dwarfs make special after finding out what and who Ailill was. The thin, steel cable wrapped around the creature's neck, burning through the tattered rags at its neck.

"SHI-NE!" Aya screamed as he threw himself out of his perch, Shion flashing in the sunlight. He cut the being in half, from the top of his head straight through the body. Thick, greenish blood sprayed everywhere and a foul odor rose from the corpse. The body began decaying at a rapid rate. It turned to ash and fluid in under five minutes.

"What the fuck?" Crawford growled.

"A _Far darrig_, if I'm not mistaken," Damon responded. "It looks like your employer doesn't truly trust you."

"A what?" Schuldig snarled.

"A Far_ darrig,_ a Red Cap; it's a rather malicious member of the Fair Fold. Looks like it, I mean he, was hunting you. Or Ailill was using him to keep an eye on the three of you."

"_Diese wenige Scheiße! Wenn ich meine Hände auf ihm erhalte, werde ich ..."__[5]_

"Schuldig, pull it together. We're here to fix that problem." Crawford turned his attention back to the two teenagers. "Is there somewhere we can talk safely? Obviously, my idea for an open discussion isn't going to work and I don't want to risk another of those….those…..things interrupting our negotiations."

"We've planned for almost every contingency," Omi responded. "If you'll follow me, we'll move this party to a safer location." He bowed and gestured to the American.

Crawford bowed his head, graciously and started walking. He had to trust that Schuldig and Farfarello would cover his back. Something had happened to Nagi. He no longer acted like the boy the tall brunette had saved all those years ago. He crossed a line of mushrooms that were ringing a circle of tall, majestic oaks. As his body broke that barrier, his stomach felt like it fell to his knees, his head spun and he stumbled; only to be caught by one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen.

He was tall, like the soaring oaks outside. His hair fell down passed his shoulders in a waterfall of silver-gilt. Brilliant green, cat-slit eyes peered at him from a lightly tanned face. And on his brow rested a coronet of tri-colored gold braided together.

"Come, this way," the man murmured. "We mustn't block the Gateway or the others will trample us." He flashed the confuzzled American a dazzling smile. "My name is Juriki; would you like to play with my ears?"

Crawford gave him a dumb nod, feeling overwhelmed. He looked around realizing for the first time that they weren't in the park any longer. A gentle, perfumed breeze flowed over him; his senses were stirred. All about them grew trees of gold and silver. The sun that gleamed above them sparkled in a way that the true sun didn't; a million twinkles catching the light. In the distance birds sang softly and a young, male tenor joined them.

The peace of the garden was broken as Schuldig and the others staggered through the Gate. The tall brunette turned back to his second, almost enjoying the greenish cast to the man's face.

"Schuldig," he muttered. "I don't think we're in Tokyo anymore."

"Welcome to Underhill," Juriki magnanimously greeted them all. "Welcome to my Court."

* * *

[1]Back off, Jack! If you even twitch wrong, I'll put an arrow through your heart.

[2]Child of Danu, he meant no offence. Please do nothing that you will regret later.

[3]To your wisdom, Child of Éire, I will bow.

[4]Aerrows, leave him alone and get back into your position.

[5]That little shit! When I get my hands on him I'll...


End file.
